THB 
JSTEW  'UjYIVERSAL 


BIOGRAPHICAL  DICTIONARY, 


AND 

AMERICAN  REMEMBRANCER 

03 

DEPAR  TED  MERIT : 

CONTAINING 

COMPLETE  AND  IMPARTIAL 

^CCOUATT^S  OF  THE  LIVES  AjYD  WRITINGS 

OF  TUE 

MOST  EMINENT  PERSONS  IN  EVERY  STATION, 

BUT  MORE  FARTICULARLT 

^HOSE   WHO  HAVE  SIGNALIZED  tHEMSELVES  IN  AMERICA, 

IN  FOUR  VOLUMES, 

Embellished  with  a  number  of  FoEtn ait's  of  the  most  Distinguished 
Characters^  engraved  from  Ongiiml  dra'a-i?igs, 

BY  JAMEsTl  ARDJE,  A.  M. 


VOL.  n. 


^'EJV-YORK: 

I'RINTED   FOR   THOMAS  KIKK,  NO.  48,  MAlDTN-LANE, 

1305. 


t^  c^  t^  t^  t^  t^t^  t^  «i^  t,^  c^  t^  t^  t<^  t^  t^  t<5>i  t^  C^  <^^  c^ 
'^♦f^*-^^  •»•♦♦♦♦♦  ♦♦♦♦♦♦  ♦♦♦♦♦♦  ♦♦♦♦^♦♦^  ■t.^.f  ^^^^^.^^  ♦■♦♦•♦.  ^^^^^^ 


NEW 

BIOGRAPHICAL  DICTIONARY, 

AND 

AMERICAN  REMEMBRANCER, 


Churchill,  (John)  Duke  of  Marlborough  and 
Prince  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  a  most  renowned 
general  and  statesman,  was  born  in  Devonshire,  En- 
gland, in  1650.  A  clergyman  in  the  neighbourhood, 
instructed  him  in  the  first  principles  of  literature  ; 
but  his  father  having  other  views  than  what  a  learned 
education  afforded,  carried  him  early  to  court,  where 
he  was  particularly  favoured  by  James  Duke  of  York, 
afterwards  king  James  II.  when  only  twelve  years  of 
age.  In  1666,  he  was  made  an  ensign  of  the  guards, 
during  the  first  Dutch  war  ;  and  afterwards  improved 
himself  greatly  in  the  military  art  at  Tangier,  which 
was  then  in  the  hands  of  the  English.  In  1672,  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  commanding  a  body  of  English 
auxiliaries  in  the  French  service,  Churchill  attended 
him,  and  was  soon  after  made  a  captain  in  the  Duke's 
own  regiment.  At  the  siege  of  Nimeguen,  which 
happened  in  that  campaign,  he  distinguished  himself 
so  much,  that  he  was  taken  notice  of  by  the  celebrat- 
ed Marshal  Turenne,  who  bestowed  on  him  the  name 
of  the  h(mdso7ne  Englishman,  In  1673,  he  was  at  the 
siege  at  Masstricht,  where  he  gained  such  applause. 


4  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

that  the  king  of  France  thankfd  him  for  his  behaviour 
at  the  head  of  the  line  :  and  the  Duke  of  Monmouth, 
who  had  the  direction  of  the  attack,  afterwards  told 
king  Charles  U,  that  he  owed  his  life  to  Mr.  Church- 
ill's  bravery. 

In  1681,  he  married  Sarah  Jennings,  a  young  Iad)r, 
\vho  waited  upon  Anne,  afterwards  queen  of  Great- 
Britain  ;  by  which  means,  he  greatly  strengthened  his 
interest  at  court.  Jn  1682,  he  was  created  baron  of 
Eymouth,  in  Scotland,  and  made  colonel  of  the  third 
troop  of  guards. 

Jn  1^65^  upon  the  accession  of  James  II.  to  the 
throne,  he  was  continued  in  all  his  posts,  and  also  ho- 
noured with  a  special  embassy  to  France  ;  and  was 
after  his  return,  created  a  peer  of  England,  by  the  ti- 
tle of  baron  Churchill. 

In  June  J 685,  when  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  the 
ratural  son  of  Charles  II.  had  landed  in  England,  and 
got  himself  proclaimed  king,  in  Somersetshire,  Church- 
ill being  then  lieutenant  general  of  his  Majesty's  for- 
ces, was  ordered  into  the  west  to  suppress  the  rebel- 
lion, which  he  accomplished  in  less  than  a  month,  and 
took  the  Duke  himself  prisoner,  who  was  beheaded 
on  the  J 5th  July  following.  When  James  shewed 
an  intention  of  establishing  the  Catholic  religion  in 
Britain,  Lord  Churchill,  notwithsianding  the  great 
obligations  he  owed  him,  thought  i.t  his  duty  to  aban- 
don his  cause  ;  but  even  then  did  not  leave  him, 
without  acquainting  him  by  letter  of  the  reason  of  his 
so  doing. 

Lord  Churchill  was  graciously  received  by  the  prince 
of  Orange,  and  was  by  him  first  employed  ^o  re  assem.- 
ble  the  troop  of  guards,  at  London,  and  afterwards  to 
new  m.odel  the  army  ;  for  Vv'hich  purpose  he  was  in- 
vested by  him,  with  the  rank  and  title  of  lieutenant- 
general.  1  he  prince  and  princess  of  Orange  being 
declared  king  and  queen  of  England,  Feb.  loth  1689, 
Lord  Churchill  was  sw-orn  of  their  privy  council,  and 
soon  after  raised  to  the  dignity  of  Earl  of  Marlbo- 


DICTIONARY,  S 

rough.  He  assisted  at  the  coronation  of  their  majes- 
ties, and  was  soon  sfter  made  commander  in  chief  of 
the  English  forces  sent  over  to  Holland  He  acted 
in  that  capacity  at  the  battle  of  Walcourt,  in  1689, 
and  gave  such  extraordinary  proofs  of  his  skill,  that 
prince  Wal  Icck,  speaking  in  his  commendation  to 
king  William,  declared,  that  "  he  saw  more  into  the 
art  of  war  in  a  day,  than  some  generals  in  many 
years/* 

In  1690,  he  was  made  general  of  the  forces  sent  to 
Ireland,  where  he  made  the  strong  garrisons  of  Cork 
and  Kinsale  prisoners  of  war.  The  year  following, 
king  William  shewed  the  good  opinion  he  had  of  his 
conduct,  by  sending  him  over  to  Flanders,  to  draw 
the  army  together  against  his  arrival.  All  these  ser- 
vices, however,  did  not  hinder  his  being  disgraced  at 
court  in  1692,  in  a  very  surprising  manner ;  for  with- 
out the  least  previous  notice,  he  received  a  message, 
"  that  the  king  had  no  farther  occasion  for  his  services." 
This  strange  and  unexpected  blow,  was  soon  after  fol- 
lowed by  his  being  committed  to  the  tower,  on  an  ac- 
cusation of  high  treason,  which,  however,  was  after- 
wards found  to  be  a  false  and  malicious  report,  the  au- 
thors of  which  were  severely  punished. 

Marlborough  was  soon  restored  to  favour,  and  in 
1698  was  appointed  governor  to  the  Earl  of  Glouces- 
ter, with  this  extraordinary  compliment  from  king 
William  :  "  My  Lord,  make  him  but  what  vou  are, 
and  my  nephew  will  be  what  I  want  to  see  him." 
He  continued  in  favour  till  the  king*s  death,  who,  a 
little  before  that  event,  recommended  him  to  Anne, 
princess  of  Denmark,  as  the  most  proper  person  to  be 
trusted  with  the  command  of  the  army.  Upon  the 
accession  of  that  princess  to  the  throne,'  in  1704,  her 
majesty,  whose  principal  favourite  was  Lady  Church- 
ill, loaded  his  lordship  with  honours.  He  was  elected 
knight  of  the  garter,  appointed  captain  general  of  all 
her  majesty's  torces,  and  sent  ambassador  extraordi- 
nary to  Holland.    She  could  not  have  made  a  better 


K^  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAIr 

choice  of  a  general  and  statesman,  for  in  both  these 
capacities  his  lordship  greatly  excelled. 

After  several  conferences  about  a  war,  he  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  army,  where  all  the  other  gene- 
rals had  orders  to  obey  him.  The  earl  took  the  com- 
mand June  20th  1702,  and  discerning  that  the  states 
were  made  uneasy  by  the  places,  which  the  enemy 
held  en  their  frontiers,  he  began  with  attacking  and 
reducing  them.  Accordingly,  in  this  single  cam- 
paign, he  made  himself  master  of  the  castles  of  Gra- 
venbroeck  and  Waerts,  the  towns  of  Venlo,  Rure- 
mond  and  Stevenswaert,  together  with  the  citadel  of 
Liege.  These  advantages  were  considerable,  and 
acknowledged  as  such  by  the  states  ;  but  they  had 
Jike  to  have  been  of  very  short  date,  for  the  army  sepa- 
rating in  the  neighbourhood  of  Liege,  Nov.  3d,  the 
carl  was  taken  the  next  day  in  his  passage  by  water, 
by  a  small  party  from  the  garrison  of  Gueldres ;  but 
it  being  towards  night,  and  the  earl  insisting  upon  an 
old  pass  given  to  his  brother,  was  suffered  to  proceed, 
and  arrived  at  the  Hague,  when  the  army  were  in  the 
utmost  consternation,  at  the  accident,  which  had  be- 
fallen him.  Upon  the  close  of  this  campaign,  he  was 
created  Duke  of  Marlborough,  with  a  pension  of 
22,200  dollars  per  annum,  to  devolve  forever  on  those 
enjoying  the  title  of  Duke  of  Marlborough. 

The  nature  of  our  work,  will  not  suffer  us  to  relate 
all  the  military  transactions,  in  which  the  Duke  of 
Marlborough  was  engaged.  This  far,  however,  may 
be  «ientioned,  that  numerous  as  they  were,  they  were 
all  successful.  In  the  spring  of  1703,  the  French 
had  a  great  army  in  Flanders,  in  the  low  countries, 
and  in  that  part  of  Germany,  which  the  elector  of 
Cologne  had  put  into  their  hands,  and  prodigiouis  pre- 
parations were  made  under  the  most  experienced 
commanders ;  but  such  was  the  vigilance  and  activity 
of  the  Duke,  that  he  baffled  them  all.  When  the 
campaign  was  over,  he  went  to  Dusseldorf,  to  meet* 
the  late  emperor,  then  styled  Charles  111.  king  of 


DICTIOKARV.  T 

Spain,  w!io  made  him  a  present  of  a  sword  set  with 
diamonds ,  soon  after  which,  his  grace  came  over  to 
England. 

In  April  1704,  he  again  embarked  for  Holland, 
where  staying  about  a  month,  to  adjust  the  necessary 
steps,  he  began  his  march  towards  the  heart  of  Ger- 
many ;  and  at  last,  on  June  21st,  very  unexpectedly 
arrived  before  the  strong  entrenchments  of  the  enemy 
at  Schellenburgh,  whom  after  an  obstinate  and  bloody 
conflict,  he  entirely  routed.  It  was  upon  this  occasi- 
on, that  he  received  a  letter  of  thanks  from  the  emper- 
or Leopold  written  in  his  own  hand,  an  honour  sel- 
dom done  to  any  but  foreign  princes.  He  followed 
up  this  success,  till  Aug.  2d,  when  the  battle  of 
Blenheim  was  fought  ;  in  consequence  of  which,  the 
empire  ot  Germany  was  saved  from  immediate  de- 
struction. Though  prince  Eugene  was  joined  in 
command  with  the  Duke,  yet  the  glory  of  the  day 
was  confessedly  owing  to  the  latter.  The  French  ge- 
neral Tallard  was  taken  prisoner  and  sent  to  England; 
and  20,000  French  or  Bavarians  were  killed,  wound- 
ed or  drowned  in  the  Danube  ;  besides  about  13,000 
who  were  taken,  and  a  proportionable  number  of  can- 
non, artillery,  and  trophies  of  war. 

After  the  battle  of  Blenheim,  he  received  congra- 
tulatory letters  from  most  of  the  potentates  of  Europe, 
particularly  from  the  states  general  and  from  the  em- 
peror, who  desired  him  to  accept  of  the  dignity  of  a 
prince  of  the  emprie  ;  which  was  soon  after  confer- 
red upon  him  by  the  title  of  prince  of  Mildenheim%i 
the  province  of  Swabia,  After  the  campaign  was 
ended,  he  visited  the  court  of  Berlin,  where  by  a 
short  negociation,  he  suspended  the  disputes  betweea 
the  king  of  Prussia  and  the  Dutch  ;  and  by  his  wise 
and  conciliatory  conduct,  caused  the  whole  confedera- 
cy to  acknowledge,  that  he  had  done  the  greatest  ser* 
vice  possible  to  the  common  cause.  Upon  his  return 
to  England,  the  queen  received  him  with  marks  of 
the  highest  esteem,  and  granted,  at  the  request  of 


f  NEW  BIOGRAPHIf?Al 

parliament,   the  manor  of  Woodstock,  to  him  and 
his  heirs  forever. 

The  next  vear  1705,  he  went  over  to  Holland  in 
March,  with  a  design  to  excute  some  great  schemes, 
which  he  had  been  projecting  in  the  winter.  The 
campaign  was  attended  with  some  successes,  which 
would  have  made  a  considerable  figure,  in  a  campaign 
under  any  other  general ;  but  are  scarcely  worth  men- 
tioning, where  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  was  con- 
cerned. After  spending  some  time  at  ihe  courts  of 
Vienna,  Berlin  and  Hanover,  he  returned  to  England 
towards  the  close  of  the  year.  On  the  7th  January 
1706,  the  House  of  Commons  came  to  a  resolution  to 
thank  the  Duke,  as  well  for  his  prudent  negociations, 
as  for  his  imiportant  military  services  ;  but  notwith- 
standing this,  it  very  soon  appeared,  that  there  was  a 
strong  party  formed  against  the  war,  who,  in  the 
prosecution  of  their  object,  did  not  hesitate  to 
bring  the  conduct,  even  of  Marlborough,  the  idol  of 
the  people,  into  obloquy  and  disgrace. 

The  next  year  distinguished  the  Duke,  by  the  vic- 
tory, which  he  obtained  at  the  battle  of  Ramillies, 
where  the  enemy  had  upwards  of  SOOO  killed  or 
wounded,  and  6000  taken  prisoners.  The  Duke 
was  twice,  here,  in  the  utmost  danger;  once  by  a 
fall  from  his  horse,  and  a  second  time  by  a  cannon 
shot,  which  took  off  the  head  of  a  gentleman,  who 
was  holding  the  stirrup  for  him  to  remount.  The  ad- 
vantages gained  by  this  victory,  were  so  far  improv- 
ed, by  tl  e  vigilance  and  wisdom  of  the  Duke,  that 
Louvain,  Brussels,  and  even  Ghent  and  Bruges,  sub- 
mitted to  Kii  g  Charles,  without  a  stroke,  and  Oude- 
narde  surrendered  upon  the  first  summons.  The  city 
of  Antwerp  followed  this  example;  so  that,  in  the 
short  space  of  a  fortnight,  the  Duke  reduced  all  Bra- 
bant to  acknowledge  the  title  of  King  Charles.  The 
forces  of  the  allies  being  about  to  separate,  after  this 
campaign,  his  Grace  went  to  the  Hague,  where  the 
proposals,    which   France  had  made,  for   a  peace. 


DICTIONARY.  9 

were  communicated  to  the  ministers  of  the  allies,  aS- 
ter  which  he  embarked  for  England. 

He  arrived  in  London,  Nov.  18th  1706;  and, 
though,  at  this  time,  there  was  a  strong  party  formed 
against  him,  at  court,  yet,  the  great  services  he  had 
done  the  nation,  and  the  personal  regard  of  the  queen, 
procured  him  an  universal  good  reception.  The 
thanks  of  both  houses  of  parliament  were  voted  to 
him,  in  terms  of  the  highest  approbation  :  tlie  last 
day  of  the  year  was  appointed  for  a  general  thanks- 
giving, in  which  there  was  this  singularitv  observed, 
that  it  was  the  second  thanksgiving  within  the  year, 
and  Blenheim  house,  which  had  been  erected  by  her 
majesty,  to  perpetuate  the  celebrity  of  his  fam^\  was, 
together  with  all  his  honours,  bv  an  act  o^'  the  legis- 
lature, entailed  upon  the  issue  of  his  daughters. 

The  campaign  of  the  year  1707,  proved  the  most 
barren  one  he  ever  made,  which  was  chieBv  owing 
to  a  failure  on  the  part  of  the  allies,  who  began  to 
flag,  in  supporting  the  common  cause  ;  but,  on  Jane 
SOth,  1708,  he  defeated  the  French,  at  Oudenarde, 
where  they  lost  4000  in  the  field,  and  about  7000 
taken  prisoners,  and  was  otherwise  so  exceedingly 
successful,  that  the  French  king  thought  fit,  in  the 
beginning  of  1709,  to  set  on  foot  a  negociation  for 
peace.  The  house  of  Coinmons,  upon  this  occasion, 
gave  an  uncommon  testimony  of  their  respect  for  the 
Duke,  by  sending  their  speaker  to  Brussels,  on  pur- 
pose to  compliment  him  :  and,  on  his  first  appear- 
ance, in  the  house  of  Lords,  he,  likewise,  received 
the  thanks  of  that  assembly. 

Marshal  Villars  commanded  the  French  army,  int 
the  campaign  of  1709  ;  and  Lewis  XIV.  expressed 
no  small  hopes  of  success,  from  the  well  known  talents 
of  that  officer.  On  the  1 1  th  September,  however,  the 
allies,  under  the  command  of  the  Duke,  forced  the 
French  lines  at  Malplaquet,  near  M ons,  afccr  a  bloody 
action,  in  which  the  French  lost  15000  men. 

Vol.  11.  No.  9,  B 


(30  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

As  Lewis  XIV.  professed  a  readiness  for  peacc^ 
the  English,  at  last  consented  to  a  negociation,  and 
the  conferences  v/ere  held  at  Gertrudenburgh  1710. 
They  were  managed  on  the  part  of  England  by  the 
duke  of  Marlborough,  and  by  the  Marquis  de  Torcy 
for  the  French.  All  his  oiTers  were  rejected  by  the 
Duke  as  only  designed  to  amuse  and  divide  the  allies, 
and  the  war  was  continued. 

This  unreasonable  haughtiness  of  the  Duke,  at  last 
opened  the  eyes  of  the  English  nation  to  their  true 
interest :  for  though  their  warlike  reputation  had  never 
risen  to  a  greater  height  than  under  his  auspices,  yet 
as  It  too  often  happens,  even  in  the  most  successful 
wars,  the  burthens  of  the  community  were  greatly  in- 
creased, and  thousands  of  innocent  victims  were  annu- 
ally immolated  for  the  purpose  of  promoting  the  views 
of  a  few  individuals,  actuated  by  the  baleful  motives 
of  avarice  or  ambition.  Awakened  by  these  sen- 
timents, peace  became  the  favourite  w^ish  of  the 
people  ;  and  as  it  was  universally  understood,  that 
Marlborough  was  opposed  to  that  measure,  he  now 
lost  all  his  popularity. 

JNIeans  were  found  to  convince  the  queen,  that  the 
war,  if  continued,  must  prove  ruinous  to  herself  and 
people  ',  her  affections  became  entirely  alienated  from 
the  Dutchess  of  Marlborough,  whose  friends,  in  con- 
sequence thereof,  lost  their  places.  In  the  House  of 
Lords,  where  the  Duke's  conduct  had  so  often  been 
the  subject  of  the  highest  eulogium,  he  was  now  ac- 
cused to  his  face  of  having  unnecessarily  protracted 
the  w^ar ;  and  an  enquiry  was  promoted  in  the  I  louse 
of  Commons,  with  a  view  to  fix  an  imputation  upon 
him,  of  having  appropriated  large  sums  of  the  public 
money  to  his  own  use.  When  a  question  to  that  pur- 
pose had  been  carried  in  the  house,  the  queen  by  a 
letter  conceived  in  very  obscure  terms,  acquainted  him 
with  her  having  no  farther  occasion  for  his  services, 
and  dismissed  him  from  all  his  employments. 


DICTIONARY.  11 

His  Situation  became  now  extremely  unpleasant,  In 
his  native  country :  on  the  one  hand,  he  was  attacked 
by  the  clamours  of  the  populace,  and  by  an  host  of 
v/riters,  who  will  ever  be  ready  to  vilify  those,  whom 
they  can  insult  with  impunity  :  on  the  other  hand,  a 
prosecution  was  commenced  against  him  by  the  at- 
torney general,  for  applying  public  money  to  his  pri- 
vate use  ;  and  the  workmen  employed  in  building 
Blenheim-house,  though  set  at  work  by  the  crown, 
were  encouraged  to  sue  him  for  the  money,  which 
was  due  to  them.  This  uneasiness,  at  last  induced 
him  to  gratify  his  enemies  by  going  into  a  voluntary 
exile  :  he  accordingly  embarked  for  the  continent,  in 
Nov.  1712  ;  from  whence,  after  he  had  resided  some 
time  on  his  principality  at  Mildenheim,  he  returned 
to  England  4th  l^^ugust,  1714. 

He  was  received  with  every  possible  demonstration 
of  joy,  by  those,  who  upon  the  decease  of  the  queen, 
which  had  happened  upon  the  1st  August,  were  en- 
trusted with  the  government ;  and,  upon  the  arrival  of 
George  I.  was  particularly  distinguished  by  acts  of 
royal  favour,  for  he  was  again  declared  captain-gene- 
ral and  commander  in  chief  of  all  his  majesty's  land 
forces,  and  master  of  the  ordnance. 

His  advice  was  of  ijreat  use  in  concertincr  those 
measures,  by  which  the  rebelHon  in  1715  was  crush.- 
ed  ;  and  this  was  the  last  effort  he  made  in  respect 
to  public  affairs  :  for  his  infirmities  increasing  with  his 
years,  he  retired  from  business,  and  spent  the  greatest 
part  of  his  time,  during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  at 
one  or  other  of  his  country  houses.  He  died  at 
Windsor  Lodge,  June  16th  17L^2,  aged  72.  Upon 
his  demise,  all  parties  united  in  doing  honour,  or  ra- 
ther justice  to  his  merit;  for  whatever  vices  might 
sully  his  private  character,  so  numerous  had  been  his 
successes,  and  so  great  his  reputation  as  a  general', 
that  his  very  name  was  almost  equivalent  to  an  army. 
The  noble  pile  near  Woodc^tock,  which  bears  the  name 
of  Blenheim^house,  may  justly  be  stilcd  his  raonu- 


12  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

ment  ;  but  without  pretending  to  the  gift  of  prophe* 
cv,  one  mav  venture  to  predict,  that  the  fame  of  his 
military  exploits  will  long  survive  that  structure.  If 
he  had  foibles,  as  these  are  inseparable  from  human 
nature,  they  were  so  hidden  by  the  glare  of  his  ex- 
ploits, as  to  be  scarcel*'  perceptible.  A  certain  para- 
site, who  thought  to  please  Lord  Bolingbroke  by  ridi- 
culing the  avarice  of  the  Duke,  was  stopt  short  by 
his  lordship,  who  said  "  He  was  so  very  great  a  man> 
that  I  had  almost  forgot  he  had  that  vice.'* 

Our  of  a  variety  of  anecdotes  and  testimonies  con- 
cerning thi'^  illustrious  personage,  the  following  selec- 
tion may  serve  to  illustrate  his  ruling  passion  and 
character. 

One  of  the  first  things  which  he  did,  when  very 
young,  was  to  purchase  a  box,  to  pit  his  money  in  : 
a  strong  indication  of  the  economical,  not  to  say,  ava- 
ricious temper,^  which  accompanied  him  through  life. 
Dr.  Joseph  Wharton  relates,  that  on  the  evening  of  a 
very  iin^H>rtant  battle,  the  Duke  was  heard  to  chide 
his  servant  for  having  been  so  extravagant  as  to  light 
four  candies  in  his  tent,  when  prince  Eugene  came 
to  confer  with  him.  When  any  of  his  officers  had 
Solicited  h'm  fur  a  favour,  in  order  to  save  himself 
some  pxpences,  he  would  tell  them' in  the  most  oblig- 
ing manner,  that  he  would  consider  the  business- 
and  come  and  dine  with  them.  If  he  was  mercenary 
himself,  he  was  well  matched  in  his  Dutchess,  whose 
disposition  was  equally  sordid.  She  had  long  possess- 
ed the  greatest  ascendancy  over  the  queen,  in  conse- 
quence of  which,  most  offices  w^ere  obtained  through 
hc-r  means  ;  but  her  patronage  could  seldom  be  pur- 
chased without  a  pecuniary  compensation. 

D^an  Swift,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Stella,  relates 
the  following  particulars  ot  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  : 
^*  I  was  early  this  morning  with  Secretary  St.  John, 
^c.  He  told  me,  he  had  been  with  the  Duke  ot 
Marlborough,  who  was  lamenting  his  former  wrong 
steps  in  joining  w  ith  the  Whigs,  and  said,  he  was 


DICTIONARY.  13 

worn  out  with  age,  fatigue  and  misfortunes.  I  swear 
it  pitied  me  ;  and  I  really  think  they  will  not  do  well 
in  too  much  mortifying  that  man,  although,  indeed, 
it  is  his  own  fault.  He  is  covetous  as  hell,  and  ambi- 
tious as  the  prince  of  it :  he  would  fain  have  been 
general  for  life,  and  has  broken  all  endeavours  for 
peace,  to  keep  his  greatness  and  get  money.  He 
told  the  queen  '  he  was  neither  covetous  nor  ambi- 
tions.* She  said,  '  if  she  could  have  conveniently  turned 
about,  she  would  have  laughed,  and  could  hardly  for- 
bear it  in  his  face.  He  fell  in  with  all  the  abominable 
measures  of  the  late  ministry,  because  they  gratified 
him  for  their  own  designs  :  yet  he  has  been  a  success- 
ful general,  and,  I  hope  he  will  continue  his  com- 
mand.'* 

Lord  Bolingbroke,  in  his  letters  on  the  study  and 
use  of  history,  when  speaking  of  the  consternation 
raised  among  the  allies,  by  the  death  of  King  Wil- 
liam, and  of  the  joy,  which  that  event  gave  to  the 
French,  observes,  *'  that  a  short  time  shewed  how 
vain  the  fears  of  some  and  the  hopes  of  others  were. 
By  his  death,  the  duke  of  Marlborough  was  raised  to 
the  head  of  the  army,  and,  indeed,  of  the  confede- 
racy ;  where  he,  a  new,  a  private  man,  a  subject  ac- 
quired by  merit  and  by  management,  a  more  decided 
influence  than  high  birth,  confirmed  authority  and 
even  the  crown  of  Great  Britain  had  given  to  king 
William.  Not  only  all  the  parts  of  that  vast  machine, 
the  grand  alliance,  were  kept  more  compact  and  en- 
tire, but  a  more  rapid  and  vigorous  motion  was  given 
to  the  whole :  and,  instead  of  languishing  and  dis- 
astrous campaigns,  we  saw  every  scene  of  the  war 
full  of  action.  All  those  wherein  he  appeared,  and 
many  ot  those,  wherein  he  was  not  then  an  actor, 
but  an  abettor,  were  crowned  with  the  most  trium- 
phant success.  I  take,  with  pleasure,  this  opportu- 
nity of  doing  justice  to  that  great  man,  \\hos(^f(iul/s 
1  knew,  whose  virtues  I  admired,  and  whose  memo- 
-ry,  as  the  greatest  general  and  as  the  greatest  Oiinis- 


14  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ter,  that  our  country,  or,  perhaps,  any  other  has  pro- 
duced, I  honour." 

Of  Marlborough's  exterior  accomplishments,  the 
Earl  of  Chesterfield,  in  his  letters  to  his  son,  says,  that 
of  all  the  men  he  ever  knew,  the  Duke  possessed  the 
graces,  in  the  highest  degree ;  and  to  those  graces, 
he  ventures  to  ascribe  the  better  half  of  his  greatness 
and  riches.  "  He  was,"  says  he,  "  eminently  illiterate, 
wrote  bad  English,  and  spelt  it  still  worse.  He  had 
no  share  of  what  is  commonly  called  parts  ;  that  is,  he 
had  no  brightness,  nothing  shewing  in  his  genius. 
He  had,  most  undoubtedly,  an  excellent  good  plain 
understanding,  with  sound  judgment ;  but  these  alone 
would  have  probably  raised  him  but  something  higher 
than  they  found  him,  which  was  page  to  king  James 
II. s  queen.  There  the  graces  protected  and  promoted 
him ;  for  whilst  he  was  an  ensign  of  the  guards,  the 
Dutchess  of  Cleveland,  then  favourite  mistress  to  king 
Charles  II.  struck  by  those  very  graces,  gave  him 
^'.5000  (22,200  dollars,)  with  which  he  immediately 
bought  an  annuity  for  his  life  of  2,200  dollars  and 
this  was  the  foundation  of  his  subsequent  fortune. 
His  figure  was  beautiful ;  but  his  manner  was  irre- 
sistible either  by  man  or  woman.  It  w^as  by  this 
engaging,  graceful  manner,  that  he  was  enabled  dur- 
ing all  his  wars,  to  connect  the  various  jarring  powers 
of  the  grand  alliance,  and  to  carry  them  on  to  the 
grand  object  of  the  war,  notwithstanding  their  private 
and  separate  views,  jealousies  and  wrongheadedness- 
es.'*  He  afterwards  adds,  "  He  was  always  cool, 
and  nobody  ever  observed  the  least  variation  in  his 
countenance  :  he  could  refuse  more  gracefully  than 
other  people  could  grant ;  and  those,  who  went  away 
from  him  the  most  dissatisfied  as  to  the  substance  of 
their  business,  were  yet  personally  charmed  with  him, 
and  in  some  degree  comforted  by  his  manner." 

How  much  he  has  been  celebrated  by  the  English 
poets,  may  be  known  by  "  Addison's  Campaign," 
*'  Philip's  Blenheim,"  &:c. 


DICTIONARY.  f5 

CICERO,  (Marcus  Tullius)  one  of  the  great- 
est men  of  antiquity,  whether  we  consider  him  as  aa 
orator,  a  statesman,  or  a  philosopher,  was  born  about 
107  years  before  Christ.  In  his  very  active  life,  the 
most  striking  incident  is  his  detection  of  the  conspi- 
racy of  Cataline  and  his  accomplices,  for  the  subver- 
sion of  the  common  weaUh.  For  his  conduct  in  this 
affair,  he  was  honoured  with  the  glorious  title  of 
"  Father  of  his  Country." 

As  it  would  be  too  tedious  to  recapitulate  the  par- 
ticular transactions  of  Cicero,  which,  to  such  of  our 
readers,  as  are  acquainted  with  Roman  history  must 
be  already  well  known  ;  and  to  others,  perhaps,  would 
not  be  deemed  very  interesting,  we  shall  content  our- 
selves with  a  few  circumstances  respecting  his  death 
and  character. 

Aker  the  settlement  of  the  Roman  Triumvirate 
composed  of  Octavius,  Antony,  and  Lepidus,  these 
three  spent  some  time,  in  a  close  conference  to  adjust 
the  plan  of  their  accommodation  ;  and  the  last  thing 
they  adjusted,  was  the  list  of  a  prescription,  which 
they  determined  to  make  of  their  enemies.  This 
occasioned  much  difficulty  and  warm  contests  among 
them,  till  each,  in  his  turn,  resolved  to  sacrifice  some 
of  his  best  friends  to  the  resentment  of  his  colleagues. 
The  whole  list  is  said  to  have  consisted  of  three 
hundred  senators,  and  two  thousand  knights,  all 
doomed  to  die  for  a  crime  the  most  unpardonable  to 
tyrants,  their  adherence  to  liberty.  Cicero^s  death 
was,  in  a  particular  manner,  necessary  to  the  common 
interest  of  the  three  ;  since  his  authority  was  too  great 
to  be  suffered  in  an  enemy  ;  and  experience  had 
shewn,  that  nothing  could  make  him  a  friend  to  the 
oppressors  of  his  country. 

Cicero  was  at  his  Tusculan  villa,  when  he  first  re- 
ceived the  news  of  the  proscription,  and  of  his  being 
included  in  it. 

It  was  the  design  of  the  triumvirate  to  keep  their 
intentions  a  secret,  if  possible,  till  the  moment  of  ex- 


16  KEW   BIOGRAPHICAt 

ccution,    in   order   that    they  might  surprize  those, 
whom  they  had  destined  to  destruction,  before  they 
had  time   to  escape.     Bat  some  of  Cicero's  friends 
found  means  to  apprize   him  of  his  danger  -,  upon 
which,  he  set  forward  to  the  sea-side,  with  a  design 
to  transport  himself  out  of  the  reach  of  his  enemies. 
Tiiere  finding  a  vessel  ready,  he  presently  embarked  ; 
but  the  wind  being  adverse,  and  the  sea  uneasy  to 
him,  he  was  obliged  to  land  and  spend  the  night  on 
shore.     From  thence  he  was  forced  on  board  again, 
by  the  importunity  of  his  servants  ;  but  was  soon  af- 
terwards obliged  to  land  at  one  of  his  country  seats, 
where  weary  of  life,  he  declared  his  resolution  to  die 
in  that  country,  which  he  had  so  often  saved.     Here 
he  slept  soundly  for  some  time,  till  his  servants  once 
more  forced  him  away  in  a  litter  towards  the  ship, 
having  heard,  that  he  was  pursued  by  Antony's  assas- 
sins.    They  had   scarcely  departed   from  the  house, 
when  the  assassins  arrived,  and  finding  that   he  had 
fled,  went  immediately  in  quest  of  him  towards  the 
shore,  where  they  overtook  him  in  a  wood.     Their 
leader  was  one  Popilius  Lenas,  a  tribune  of  the  army, 
whose  life  Cicero  had  formerly  defended   and  saved. 
As  soon  as  the  soldiers  appeared,  the  servants  prepar- 
ed to  defend  their  master's  life  at  the  hazard  of  their 
own  ;  but  Cicero  commanded  them  to  set  him  down 
and  make  no  resistance.     Then  looking  upon  his  exe- 
cutioners with  great  firmness,  and  thrusting  his  neck 
as  far  forward  as  he  could,  out  of  the  litter,  he  told 
them  to  do  their  work  ;  upon  which,  they  cut  off  his 
head  and  both  his  hands,  and  returned  with  them  to 
Rome,  as  the  most  agreeable  present  to  xAntony  their 
cruel  employer,  who  rewarding  the  murderer  with  a 
large  sum  of  money,  ordered  the  head  to  be  fixed  up- 
on the  rostra,  between  the  two  hands  ;  a  sad  spectacle 
to  the  city,  and  what  drew  tears  from  every  eye,  to  see 
these  mangled  members,  which  used  to  exert  them- 
selves so  gloriously  from  that  place,  in  defence  of  the 
lives,  the  fortunes,  and  the  liberties  of  the  Roman  peo- 


DICTIONARY,  it 

pie,  so  lamentably  exposed  to  the  scorn  of  sycophants 
and  traitors.  The  deaths  of  the  rest,  says  an  historian 
of  that  age,  caused  only  a  private  and  particular  sor- 
row ;  but  Cicero's  an  universal  one.  It  was  a  triumph 
over  the  republic  itself;  and  seemed  to  confirm  and 
establish  the  perpetual  slavery  of  Rome. 

Cicero's  death  happened  on  the  7th  December,  in 
the  64th  year  of  his  age  ;  and  with  him  expired  the 
short  empire  of  eloquence  amongst  the  Romans.  As 
an  orator,  he  is  thus  characterized  by  Dr.  Blair.  "  In 
all  his  orations,  his  art  is  conspicuous.  He  begins 
commonly  with  a  regular  exordium  -,  and  with  much 
address,  prepossesses  the  hearers  and  studies  to  gain 
the  affections.  His  method  is  clear,  and  his  argu- 
ments are  arranged  with  exact  propriety.  In  a  supe- 
rior clearness  of  method,  he  has  an  advantage  over 
Demosthenes.  Every  thing  appears  in  its  proper 
place.  He  never  tries  to  move,  till  he  has  attempted 
to  convince  ;  and,  in  moving,  particularly,  the  softer 
passions,  he  is  highly  successful.  No  one  ever  knew 
the  force  of  words,  better  than  Cicero.  He  rolls  them 
along  with  the  greatest  beauty  and  magnificence  ;  and 
in  the  structure  of  his  sentences,  is  eminently  curious 
and  exact.  He  is  always  full  and  flowing,  never 
abrupt.  He  amplifies  every  thing  ;  yet  though  his 
manner  is  generally  diffuse,  it  is  often  happily  varied 
and  accommodated  to  the  subject.  When  an  impor- 
tant public  object  roused  his  mind,  and  demanded 
indignation  and  force,  he  departs  considerably  from 
that  loose  and  declamatory  manner,  to  which  he,  at 
other  times  is  addicted,  and  becomes  very  forcible  and 
vehement.  This  great  orator,  however,  is  not  without 
his  defects.  In  most  of  his  orations,  there  is  too  much 
art,  even  carried  to  a  degree  of  ostentation.  He 
seems  often  desirous  of  obtaining  admiration,  rather 
than  of  operating  conviction.  He  is  sometimes, 
therefore,  showy  rather  than  solid,  and  diflfuse,  where 
he  ought  to  have  been  urgent.  His  sentences  are 
always  round  and  sonorous.  They  cannot  be  accused 
Vol,  II.  No.  9.  C       - 


18  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAt 

of  monotony,  since  they  possess  variety  of  cadence  ^ 
but  from  too  great  a  fondness  for  magnificence,  he  is 
on  some  occasions  deficient  in  strength.  Though  the 
services,  which  he  had  performed  to  his  country  were 
very  considerable,  yet  he  is  too  much  his  own  panegy- 
rist. Ancient  manners,  which  imposed  fewer  res- 
traints on  the  side  of  decorum,  may  in  some  degree, 
excuse,  but  cannot  entirely  justify  his  vanity." 

CINCINNATUS,  a  celebrated  Roman,  was  taken 
from  the  plough  to  be  advanced  to  the  dignity  of 
Consul,  in  which  office  he  restored  public  tranquility, 
and  then  returned  to  his  rural  employments.  Being, 
upon  another  emergency,  called  forth  a  second  time, 
he  was  appointed  dictator,  in  which  office,  he  subdued 
the  enemies  of  his  country ;  and  refusing  all  rewards, 
retired  again  to  his  farm,  after  having  exercised  the 
dictatorship  only  sixteen  days.  The  same  circum- 
stance happened  to  him  once  more,  in  the  80th  year 
of  his  age.     He  died  376  years  before  Christ. 

In  allusion  to  the  disinterested  patriotism  of  this 
exalted  character,  a  society  called  the  Order  of  Cin- 
einnatiis  or  The  Cincinnati^  was  established  in  Ame- 
rica soon  after  the  peace,  consisting  of  the  officers  of 
the  army  and  navy  of  the  United  States.  The  osten- 
sible design  of  this  institution,  was  to  perpetuate  the 
memory  of  the  revolution,  the  friendship  of  the  offi- 
cers, and  the  union  of  the  states ,  and  also  to  raise  a 
fund  for  the  relief  of  poor  widows  and  orphans,  whose 
husbands  and  fathers  had  fallen  during  the  war.  The 
members  were  to  be  distinguished  by  wearing  a  medal, 
emblematical  of  the  design  of  the  society  ;  and  the 
honours  and  advantages  were  to  be  hereditary  in  the 
eldest  male  heirs,  and  in  default  of  male  issue,  in  the 
collateral  male  heirs.  Although,  when  we  consider 
the  respectability  of  the  characters,  who  were  at  the 
head  of  this  institution,  we  can  scarcely  doubt  the 
purity  of  their  iutentions,   yet  it  soon  became  the 


DICTIONARY.  IS 

object  of  popular  jealousy.  Views  of  a  deeper  na- 
ture were  imputed  to  the  framers :  and  the  institution 
was  censured  and  opposed,  as  giving  birth  to  a  mili- 
tary nobiiity  of  a  dangerous  aristocratic  nature,  which 
might  ultimately  prove  ruinous  to  the  liberties  of  the 
new  empire.  But  that  article  of  their  constitution, 
which  was  the  principal  ground  of  apprehension,  viz. 
the  right  of  making  the  honours  hereditary  having 
since  been  altered,  the  society  is  no  longer  viewed  as 
an  object  of  jealousy. 

CLARKE  (Dr.  SaxMuel)  an  eminent  English 
divine  and  philosopher,  was  born  in  Norwich,  11th 
October,  1675.  He  was  instructed  in  grammatical 
learning,  at  the  free-school  of  that  town,  and  in 
1691,  was  removed  to  Caius  college,  Can:ibridge, 
where  his  uncommon  abilities  soon  began  to  display 
themselves  :  for,  when  he  was  only  about  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  he  contributed  not  a  little  towards  the 
establishment  of  the  Newtonian  philosophy,  by  an 
excellent  translation  of  Rohault's  Physics,  which 
were  then  generally  taught  in  the  university  ;  to  which 
he  added  a  number  of  valuable  notes,  calculated  to 
lead  the  students  insensibly  from  the  chimerical  noti- 
ons of  that  author,  to  others  more  consentaneous  to 
truth. 

Having  afterwards  turned  his  thoughts  to  divinity, 
and  taken  holy  orders.  Air.  Clarke  was  appointed 
chaplain  to  Dr.  Moore,  bishop  of  Norwich.  This  pre- 
late, one  of  the  greatest  patrons  of  learning  and  learned 
men,  received  our  author  into  his  family,  and  friend- 
ship to  such  a  remarkable  degree,  that  he  lived  for 
nearly  twelve  years  in  that  station,  with  all  the  decent 
freedoms  of  a  brother  and  an  equal,  rather  than  an 
inferior.  The  bishop's  esteem  for  him  encreased  eve- 
ry day  ;  and  at  his  death,  he  gave  him  the  highest 
proof  of  confidence,  by  leaving  all  the  concerns  of  his 
tkmily  entirely  in  his  hands. 


20  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

In  1 699,  Mr.  CJarke  published  three  practical  es- 
says on  baptism,  confirmation  and  repentance  -,  and 
an  anonymous  work,  entitled  "  Reflections  on  part 
of  a  book  called  Amyntor,  or  a  defence  of  Milton's 
life,  which  relates  to  the  writings  of  the  primitive 
fathers  ;  and  the  canon  of  the  New  Testament  in 
a  letter  to  a  friend."  In  1701,  Mr.  Clarke  published 
his  paraphrase  on  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  which 
was  soon  followed  by  those  on  the  other  evangelists. 
They  were  afterwards  printed  together  in  2  vols.  8vo. 
and  have  since  undergone  several  editions.  He  in- 
tended to  have  gone  through  the  remaining  books  of 
the  New  Testament,  in  the  same  manner  ;  but  some- 
thing accidentally  interrupted  the  execution,  "  and  it 
is  now,"  says  bishop  Hoadley,  ''  only  to  be  lament- 
ed, that  any  thing  first  diverted  him  from  it ;  or  that 
he  did  not  afterwards  prevail  upon  himself  tg  resume 
^nd  complete  so  great  a  work." 

In  the  year  1704,  he  was  appointed  to  preach 
Boyle's  lecture,  and  the  subject  he  chose  was  "  The 
being  and  attributes  of  God,"  in  which  he  succeeded 
so  well,  that  he  was  appointed  to  preach  the  same 
lecture  the  next  year ;  when  he  chose  for  his  subject 
*'  The  evid«?nce  of  natural  and  revealed  religion." 
These  sermons  were  first  printed  in  two  distinct  vo- 
lumes ;  the  fi!frmer  in  1705,  the  latter  in  1706.  They 
have  since  been  printed  in  one  volume,  under  the 
general  title  i)f  "  A  discourse  concerning  the  being 
and  attributes  of  God,  the  obligations  of  natural  reli- 
gion, and  the  truth  and  certainty  cf  the  christian 
levelation,  in  answer  to  Hobbes,  Spinosa,  the  author 
of  the  oracles  of  reason,  and  other  deniers  of  natural 
and  revealed  religion." 

In  his  discourses  on  the  evidences  of  natural  and 
revealed  religion.  Dr.  Clarke  laid  the  foundations  of 
morality  deep  in  the  mutual  relations  of  things  and 
persons  to  one  another,  in  the  unalterable  fitness  of 
some  actions,  and  the  unfitness  of  others  ;  and  in 
the  will  of  the  great  creator  of   all  things,  evident 


DICTIONARY.  21 

from  his  making  man  capable  of  seeing  these  rela- 
tions and  this  fitness  ;  of  judging  concerning  them, 
and  of  acting  agreeably  to  that  judgment.  He  then 
proceeds  to  demonstrate  the  christian  religion  to  be 
worthy  of  God  from  its  internal  evidence,  taken  from 
the  perfect  agreeableness  of  its  main  design  to  the 
light  of  nature,  and  to  all  moral  obligations  of  eter- 
nal reason  :  and  after  this,  to  prove  it  to  have  been 
actually  revealed  to  the  world  by  God,  from  the  in- 
ternal evidence  of  prophecy  going  before  it,  and  of 
miraculous  works  performed  in  express  confirmation 
of  it.  These  sermons,  says  bishop  Hoadley,  every 
christian  ought  to  esteem  as  his  treasure,  as  they  con- 
tain the  true  strength  not  only  of  naiuraly  but  reveal- 
td  religion. 

About  this  time,  Mr.  AVhiston  tells  us,  he  discovered 
that  Mr.  Clarke  had  been  looking  into  the  primitive 
writers,  and  began  to  suspect  that  the  Athanasian 
doctrine  of  the  trinity,  was  not  the  doctrine  of  the 
early  ages.  He  then  informed  Mr.  Whiston,  that  he 
never  read  the  Athanasian  creed  in  his  parish  at  Nor- 
wich, except  once,  and  then  only  by  mistake. 

In  1706,  our  author  published  his  letter  to  Mr. 
Dodwell  in  answer  to  that  writer's  epistolary  dis- 
course, concerning  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul;  and, 
likewise,  translated  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Treatise  on 
Optics  into  elegant  Latin.  Having  now  become  ce- 
lebrated in  the  literary  world,  he  was  brought  to  court 
by  his  patron,  and  recommended  to  the  favour  of 
'Queen  Anne,  who  appointed  him  one  of  her  chap- 
lains, and  soon  after,  in  consideration  of  his  great 
merit,  he  was  presented  to  the  rectory  of  St.  James, 
Westminster.  Upon  his  advancement  to  this  station 
he  took  the  degree  of  D.  D.  when  the  public  exer- 
cise, whicli  he  performed  for  it,  at  Cambridge,  was 
exceedingly  admired.  The  questions  which  he  main- 
tained were  these;  1st  *'That  no  article  of  the 
Christian  faith,  delivered  in  the  holv  scriptures  is  dis- 
agreeable  to  right  reason  ;  2d.  ''  That   without  the 


23  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

liberty  of  human  actions,  there  can  be  no  reh'gion.'* 
In  17i2,  he  published  a  beautiful  edition  of  Caesar's 
commentaries,  adorned  with  elegant  sculptures.  In 
this  work,  the  doctor  took  particular  care  of  the  punc- 
tuation ;  and,  in  the  annotations,  selected  what  ap- 
peared the  best  and  most  judicious  informer  editions, 
with  some  emendations  of  his  own,  interspersed. 
*'  The  beauty  of  the  paper,  says  Mr.  Addison,  of 
the  character,  and  of  the  several  arts  with  which  this 
noble  work  is  illustrated,  makes  it  the  finest  book  I 
have  ever  seen."  This  edition  has  risen  in  value,  from 
that  time  to  the  present,  and  is  now  exceedingly 
scarce.  A  copy  of  it  was  lately  purchased  at  a  pub- 
lic sale,  in  England,  by  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  for 
which  he  paid  the  sum  of  195  dollars  and  36  cents. 

The  same  year,  1712,  he  published  his  book,  en- 
titled "  The  Scripture  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  &c.'* 
in  consequence  of  w^hich,  he  soon  got  involved  in  a 
very  warm  controversy,  an  inundation  of  books  and 
pamphlets,  many  of  which  he  answered,  being  writ- 
ten against  him.  For  the  opinions  which  he  advanced 
upon  this  subject,  he,  likewise,  became  obnoxious 
to  the  ecclesiastical  power,  and  his  book  was  com- 
plained of  by  the  lower  house  of  convocation.  The 
doctor  drew  up  a  preface,  and,  afterwards,  gave  in 
several  explanations,  which  seemed  to  satisfy  the  up- 
per house  :  at  least,  the  affair  was  not  brought  to  any 
issue,  the  members  appearing  desirous  to  avoid  dis- 
sensions and  divisions. 

In  1718,  Dr.  Clarke  made  an  alteration  in  the  dox- 
ology  of  the  singing  psalms,  which  produced  no  small 
noise  and  disturbance,  and  occasioned  some  paiH' 
phlets  to  be  written.     The  alteration  was  this : 

To  God,  througli  Christ  his  only  Son, 
Immortal  glory  be  &c. 

and, 
To  God,  through  Christ,  his  Son,  our  Lord, 
All  ^lory  be  therefore  &c. 


1>ICTI0NARY,  12S 

A  considerable  number  of  these  select  psalms  and 
hymns  having  been  dispersed  by  the  society  for  pro- 
moting Christian  knowledge,  before  the  alteration  of 
the  doxologies  was  taken  notice  of,  he  was  charged 
with  a  design  of  having  imposed  upon  the  society  : 
but,  from  this  imputation  he   was  vindicated  by  his 
friends,  who   assert,  that  the  edition  had  been  pre- 
pared by  him  for  the  use  of  his  own  congregation  on- 
ly, before  the  society  had  thoughts  of  purchasing  any 
of  the  copies :  and,  that  as  the  usual   forms  of  dox- 
ology  are  not  established  by  any  legal  authority,  either 
ecclesiastical  or  civil,  he  had,  so  far,  committed  no 
offence.     Dr.    Robinson,    bishop  of   London,  how- 
ever, so  highly   disliked  the  alteration,  that  he  pub- 
lished a  letter  to  the  incumbents  of  all  churches  and 
chapels   in  his  diocese,  against  their  using  any  new 
forms  of  doxologies.     The  letter  is  dated  Dec.   26th, 
1718,  and  begins  thus  :  "Reverend  Brethren,  there 
is  an  instance  of  your  care  and  duty,  which  I  con- 
ceive myself  at  this  time  highly  obliged  to  offer,  and 
you  to  regard,  as  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  the 
very  foundation  of  our  faith.     Some  persons  seduced, 
I  fear,  by  the  strong  delusions  of  pride  and  self  con- 
ceit, have  lately  published    new  forms  of  doxology, 
entirely  agreeable  to  those  of  some  ancient  heretics, 
who  impiously  denied    a   Trinity  of  persons  in  the 
unity  of  the  Godhead.     I  do,  therefore,  warn  you, 
and  charge  it  upon  your  souls,   as  you  hope  to  obtain 
mercy  from  God  the  Father,  through  the  merits  of 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  and  by  the  sanctification  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  three  persons  and  one   God  blessed  for 
ever,  that  you  employ  your  best  endeavours  to  prevail 
with  your  several  flocks,  to   have  a  great  abhorrence 
for  the  above  mentioned  new  forms,  &c."  Those  who 
approved  of  Dr.  Clarke's  sentiments,  reprobated  the 
conduct  of  the  bishop  as  highly  intolerant,  whilst  the 
advocates  for   the  generally  received  doctrines  of  the 
church,  considered  it  as  a  laudable  zeal  to  suppress 
errors,  which  sapped  the  foundation  of  the  Christian 


24  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

religion,  and  were  fraught  with  destruction  to  the 
souls  of  men.  The  letter,  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, became  the  subject  of  a  warm  controversy  ; 
in  which  the  most  able  champions  were  engaged,  on 
both  sides  ;  but  to  which  of  the  parties,  the  palm  of 
victory  should  be  adjudged,  does  not,  we  conceive, 
belong  to  our  province  to  determine.  Without,  there- 
fore, expressing  our  sentiments,  with  respect  to  the 
religious  opinions  of  our  author,  we  shall  only  take 
the  liberty  of  directing  such  of  our  readers  as  are  not 
fully  satisfied  on  the  subject,  "  to  the  laxv  a?id  to  the 
testimony  ;  if  they  speak  not  according  to  this  zvord, 
it  is  because  there  is  ?io  light  in  theinT 

In  1727,  upon  the  death  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  he 
was  offered,  by  the  court,  the  place  of  master  of  the 
mint,  worth  upwards  of  6000  dollars  per  annum  : 
this  appointment,  hovvever,  he  thought  proper  to 
refuse,  as  he  considered  secular  preferment  incompa- 
tible with  his  profession,  and  likely  to  interrupt  him, 
in  the  discharge  of  what  he  believed  more  important 
duties. 

In  1728,  was  published  "  a  letter  from  Dr.  Clarke 
to  Benjamin  Hoadley  F.  R.  S.  occasioned  by  the 
controversy  relating  to  the  proportion  of  velocity,  and 
force  in  bodies  in  motion,"  and  printed  in  "The  Phi- 
losophical Transactions,  No.  401."  In  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  following,  he  published  "The  12 
first  books  of  Homer's  Iliad  in  quarto,'*  which  was 
dedicated  to  the  Duke  of  Cumberland.  The  Latin 
version  is  almost  entirely  new,  and  annotations  are 
added  at  the  bottom  of  the  pages.  Homer,  bishop 
Hoadley  tells  us,  was  Dr.  Clarke's  admired  author, 
even  to  a  degree  of  something  like  enthusiasm,  hard- 
ly natural  to  his  temper ;  and  that  in  this  he  went  a 
little  beyond  the  bounds  of  Horace's  judgment,  and 
was  so  unwilling  to  allow  his  favorite  poet  ever  to  nody 
that  he  has  taken  remarkable  pains  to  find  out,  and 
give  a  reason  for  every  passage,  word  and  tittle,  that 
could  create  any  suspicion.     *''  The  translation/*  adds 


DICTIONARY.  25 

the  bishop,  "with  his  corrections,  may  now  be  styled 
accurate,  and  his  notes,  as  far  as  they  go,  are  indeed 
a  treasury  of  grammatical  and  critical  knowledge. 
He  was  called  to  this  work  by  royal  command,  and 
he  has  performed  it  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  be  wor- 
thy of  the  young  prince  for  whom  it  was  laboured.'* 

The  remainder  of  our  author's  life  after  this  valua- 
ble publication  was  extremely  short,  for  on  May  1 1th, 
going  out  in  the  morning  to  preach,  he  was  seized 
with  a  pain  in  his  side,  which  rendered  it  impossible 
for  him  to  perform  that  duty,  and  obliged  him  to  be 
carried  home.  On  Monday  afternoon  he  appeared  to 
be  out  of  danger,  and  continued  to  think  himself  so 
till  the  Saturday  morning  following,  when  to  the  in- 
expressible surprise  of  all  about  him,  the  pain  removed 
from  his  side  to  his  head,  and  after  a  very  short  com- 
plaint, deprived  him  of  his  senses.  He  continued 
breathing  till  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock  of  the 
evening  of  that  day.  May  17th,  1729,  when  he  ex- 
pired, in  the  54th  year  of  his  age. 

Soon  after  his  death  were  published,  from  his  ori- 
ginal manuscript,  by  his  brother  Dr.  John  Clarke, 
dean  of  Sarum,  **  An  Exposition  of  the  Church  Cate- 
chism," and  aKp  ten  volumes  of  Sermons  8vo.  His 
"  Exposition"  was  immediately  animadverted  on  by 
Dr.  Waterland,  who  was  answered  by  Dr.  Sykes. 
A  controversy  ensued,  and  three  or  four  pamphlets 
were  written  on  each  side,  with  the  titles  of  which, 
there  is  no  occasion  to  trouble  the  reader. 

Whatever  may  be  objected  against  the  orthodoxy 
of  Dr.  Clarke's  religious  creed,  it  is  obvious  from  his 
numerous  writings,  that  he  was  a  man  of  so  profound 
and  critical  learning,  as  to  stand  almost  unrivalled  in 
the  day  in  which  he  lived  ;  and  agreeably  to  the  tes- 
timony of  persons  of  distinguished  re|iutation,  his 
morals  were  likewise  unexceptionable.  B^hop  Hoad- 
ley,  in  his  character  of  this  great  and  learned  man, 
tells  us,  that  the  first  strokes  of  knowledge  in  some  of 
its  branches,  seemed  to  be  little  less  than  natural  to 

Vol.  II.  No.  9.  D 


t2t)  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

him  ;  for  they  appeared  to  lie  right  in  his  mind,  ^i 
soon  as  any  thing  could  appear.  His  conversation, 
which  was  highly  useful  and  instructive,  was  attend* 
ed  with  a  readiness  of  thought,  and  clearness  of  ex- 
pression, which  hardly  ever  failed  him,  when  his  opi- 
nion was  asked  upon  the  most  important  and  trying 
questions.  His  charity  and  benevolence  were  exten- 
sive as  the  whole  rational  creation  ;  and  the  rulftig 
principle  of  his  heart  and  practice,  a  love  of  the  reli- 
gious and  civil  liberties  of  mankind. 

Dr.  Clarke's  cheerful  and  even  playful  disposition 
is  mentioned  by  Dr.  Warton,  who,  in  his  observations, 
on  the  following  line  of  Pope, 

*'  Untliouglit  <*f  fraikies  cheat  us  in  the  wife,*' 

says,  who  could  imagine,  that  Locke  was  fond  of  ro- 
mances, that  Newton  once  studied  astrology,  and  that 
Dr.  Clarke  valued  him.self  for  his  agility,  and  fre- 
quently amused  himself  in  a  private  room  of  his  house, 
in  leaping  over  the  tables  and  chairs,  and  that  Pope 
himself  was  a  great  epicure.  With  respect  to  what 
is  here  said  of  Dr.  Clarke,  however,  it  can  scarcely  be 
considered  as  a  frailty.  To  be  possessed  of  such  a 
temper  as  he  was,  must  have  been  no  small  degree 
of  happiness,  as  it  probably  enabled  him  to  pursue  his 
important  and  serious  studies  with  greater  vivacity  and 
vigour. 

Before  we  conclude  this  sketch  of  Dr.  Clarke's  life, 
it  may  not  be  improper  to  observe,  that  his  work 
*^  On  the  being  and  attributes  of  God,  and  on  the 
evidence  of  natural  and  revealed  religion,"  is  a  pro- 
duction of  great  importance  in  the  annals  of  English 
literature,  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  excellence,  the 
favourable  reception  it  hath  universally  met  with,  the 
influence  it  hath  had  on  the  opinions  of  men,  and  the 
remarks  and  disquisitions  to  which  it  hath  given  rise. 
The  merit  or  demerit  of  his  writings  on  the  trinity  and 
some  of  his  other  religious  publications,  can  be  be&t 


DICTIONARY.  27 

ascertained  by  comparing  them  with  the  sacred  scrip- 
tures, the  only  infallible  standard  of  a  christian's  faith 
and  practice. 

CLARKE,  (John  D.  D.)  Pastor  of  the  first 
church  of  Boston,  Massachusetts,  was  born  at  Ports- 
jnouth  in  New-Hampshire,  April  13,  1755^  gradu- 
ated at  Harvard  College  in  1774  :  and  ordained  July 
8th  1778,  as  colleague  wnth  the  late  Dr.  Chauncey, 
with  whom  he  lived  in  the  most  intimate  and  respect- 
ful friendship,  till  the  death  of  the  latter  in  1787  ;  af- 
ter which,  he  continued  assiduously  and  faithfully  la- 
bouring in  the  service  of  the  church,  until  the  Lord's 
day,  April  1st  1798,  when  in  the  midst  of  his  sermon 
he  was  seized  with  an  apoplexy,*  ^qW  down  in  the 
pulpit,  and  expired  in  less  than  twelve  hours,  having 
almost  completed  the  43d  year  of  his  age,  and  the 
20th  of  his  ministry. 

This  eminent  minister  discovered  in  early  life,  great 
signs  of  genius  and  industry  ;  and  was  distinguished, 
whilst  at  the  university,  by  a  close  attention  to  classic 
and  philosophic  studies,  and  by  irreproachable  morals. 
In  the  office.of  preceptor  he  was  gentle  and  persuasive, 
beloved  by  his  pupils,  and  esteemed  by  their  friends. 
As  a  public  preacher,  his  composition  bore  the  marks 
of  penetration,  judgment,  perspicuity  and  elegance. 
Faithful  to  the  interest  of  religion,  he  deeply  examin- 
ed its  foundation  and  evidence  :  and  persuaded  of  the 
truth  and  importance  of  the  christian  system,  he  re- 
commended, by  his  public  discourses  and  private  con- 
versation, its  sublime  doctrines,  its  wise  instructions 
and  its  salutary  precepts. 

Though  fond  of  polite  literature  and  philosophic 
researches,  yet  he  considered  theology  as  the  proper 
science  of  a  gospel  minister.  To  this  object  he  princi- 
pally devoted  his  time  and  studies,  and  was  earnestly 
desirous  of  investigating  every  branch  of  it,  not  merely 
to  gratity  his  own  sacred  curiosity,  but  that  he  might 


58  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

import  to  his  hearers  the  whole  counsel  of  God.  He 
was  habitually  a  close  student,  and  it  is  not  improbable 
that  the  intenseness  of  his  application  proved  too 
severe  for  the  delicate  fabric  of  his  nerves. 

His  devotional  addresses  were  copious  and  fervent, 
and  his  intercessions  strong  and  energetic,  discover- 
ing at  once  the  ardour  of  his  piety,  and  the  warmth 
of  his  benevolence.  In  the  private  offices  of  pastoral 
friendship,  he  w^as  truly  exemplary  and  engaging. 
His  temper  was  mild  and  cheerful,  his  manners  easy 
and  polite ;  and  the  social  virtues  of  an  honest  heart 
gave  a  glow  to  his  language,  and  enlivened  every  cir- 
cle in  which  he  was  conversant.  As  a  member  of 
domestic  life,  as  well  as  of  several  of  the  most  emi- 
nent literary  and  charitable  societies  in  Boston,  his 
deportment  was  marked  with  affection,  fidelity  and 
carefulness.  He  was  concerned  for  the  interest,  re- 
putation and  happiness  of  all  his  connexions,  and 
zealously  devoted  to  the  cause  of  science  and  hu- 
manity. 

Dr.  Clarke's  printed  works  are,  1st  four  sermons — 
one  on  the  death  of  Dr.  Cooper,  one  on  the  death  of 
Dr.  Chauncy,  one  on  the  death  of  Dr.  N.  W.  Ap- 
pleton  and  one  before  the  Humane  Society  :  2d  an 
excellent  Treatise  in  defence  of  Christianity,  entitled, 
*' Why  are  you  a  Christian  r"  This  had  three  editions 
in  Boston,  and  three  in  England :  3d  "  Letters  to  a 
student  at  the  university  of  Cambridge. 

A  volume  of  Dr.  Clark's  sermons  has  been  pub- 
lished since  his  decease.  It  is  a  selection  that  does 
honour  to  his  memory  ;  and  will  be  cherished  by  the 
Christain  and  the  scholar,  as  exhibiting,  in  elegant  and 
very  impressive  language,  the  pure  and  pious  senti- 
ments of  one  of  the  best  of  men. 


CLARKSON,  (David,  D.  D.)  an  eminent  non- 
conformist divine,  was  born  in  Yorkshire,  England, 
in  February,  1622.    He  was  admitted  fellow  of  Clare- 


DICTIONARY.  29 

HalJ,  Cambridge,  in  1643,  and,  amongst  many  others, 
placed  under  his  tuition,  whilst  in  that  capacity,  was 
Mr.  John  Tillotson,  afterwards  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, who,  upon  his  resigning  his  fellowship,  in  1G5I, 
w^as  chosen  his  successor.  He  was  sometime  minis- 
ter of  Mortlack,  in  Surry  ;  but,  being  in  common 
with  many  others,  ejected  for  non-conformity,  in 
1671,  he  gave  himself  up  to  reading  and  meditation, 
shifting  his  residence  from  one  place  of  obscurity  to 
another,  till  the  times  becoming  better,  he  was  again 
permitted  to  make  his  appearance,  and,  on  the  death  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  John  Owen,  in  168S,  was  appointed 
successor  in  the  pastoral  office  to  his  congregation. 
He  was  a  man  well  acquainted  with  the  sacred  scrip- 
tures, of  solid  judgment,  moderate  principles  and 
considerable  learning,  as  appears  by  his  Treatise  on 
Liturgies ;  his  Primitive  Episcopacy,  and  his  practical 
volume  of  sermons,  published  after  his  death,  which 
happened  in  the  year  1687.  Soon  after  the  revolution 
of  Great  Britain,  in  the  year  following,  King  William 
paid  attention  to  his  memory  by  the  appointment  of 
his  son  Mathew  Clarkson  to  the  office  of  Secretary 
of  the  province  of  New-York,  where  he  died,  in  1703, 
of  a  pestilential  fever,  which,  during  the  autumn. of 
that  year,  raged  with  so  great  violence  as  to  induce  the 
governor  to  remove  his  court  to  Jamaica,  Long- 
Island,  and  was  so  fatal  in  the  city,  as  to  make  a  great 
epoch  amongst  our  old  inhabitants,  distinguished  by 
*'  the  time  of  the  great  sickness." 

Several  of  the  descendants  of  this  gentlem^an  have 
filled  very  important  public  offices  vAth  reputation 
and  dignity.  General  Mathew  Clarkson  of  New- 
York  is  his  great  grandson. 

CLEGHORN,  (George)  a  celebrated  physician, 
was  born  in  the  parish  of  Cramond,  near  Edinburgh 
18th  Dec.  1716.  George  received  the  first  rudiments 
of  his  education,  in  the  gramm.ar  school  of  Cramond  5 


tiO  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

and,  in  the  year  1728,  was  sent  to  Edinburgh  to  be 
further  instructed  in  the  Latin,  Greek  and  French, 
where  to  a  singular  proficiency  in  these  languages,  he 
added  a  considerable  stock  of  mathematical  know- 
ledge. 

in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1731,  he  resolved  to 
study  physic  and  surgery,  and  had  the  happiness  of 
being  placed  under  the  tuition  of  the  late  Dn  Alex- 
ander Monro^  a  name,  which  will  be  revered  in  that 
university,  as  long  as  science  shall  be  cherished  and 
cultivated.  This  great  professor  was  esteemed  by  all, 
but  most  by  those,  who  were  more  immediately  un- 
der his  direction.  It  was  the  lot  of  young  Cleghorn 
to  live  under  his  roof ;  and  in  one  of  his  letters,  the 
grateful  pupil  seems  to  dwell  with  peculiar  pleasure 
upon  the  circumstance  ;  observing,  that  ''  his  amiable 
manners  and  unremitting  activity  in  promoting  the 
public  welfare,  endeared  him  to  all  his  acquaintance, 
but  more  particularly  to  those,  who  lived  under  his 
roof,  and  had  daily  opportunities  of  admiring  the 
sweetness  of  his  conversation,  and  the  invariable  be^ 
nignity  of  his  disposition/* 

For  five  years,  he  continued  to  profit  by  the  In- 
struction and  example  of  his  excellent  master,  visit- 
ing patients  in  company  with  him,  and  assisting  at  the 
dissections  in  the  anatomical  theatre  ;  at  the  same 
time,  he  attended  in  their  turn  the  lectures  in  botany, 
materia  medica,  chemistry,  and  the  theory  and  practice 
of  medicine,  and  by  his  extraordinary  diligence, 
attracted  the  notice  of  all  his  preceptors. 

On  Dr.  Fothergiirs  arrival  from  England,  at  this 
university,  in  the  year  1733,  Dr.  Cleghorn  was  intro- 
duced to  his  acquaintance,  and  soon  became  his  inse- 
parable companion.  These  two  pupils  then  studied 
Together  the  same  branches  of  science,  under  the 
same  masters,  with  equal  ardour  and  success  ;  they 
frequently  met  to  compare  the  notes,  they  had  collect- 
ed trom  the  professors,  and  to  communicate  their  res- 
pective observations.     Their  moments  of  relaxation. 


blCTIONA^V;  SI 

if  that  time  can  be  called  relaxation,  which  is  devoted 
to  social  studies,  were  spent  in  a  select  society  of  fel- 
low students,  of  which  Fothergill,  Russel,  and  Cum- 
ing were  associates  ;  a  society  since  incorporated  un- 
der the  name  of  the  Royal  Medical  Society  of  Edin- 
burgh. 

Early  in  1736,  w^heh  Cleghorn  had  scarcely  attain- 
ed his  twentieth  year,  he  had  acquired  so  high  a  cha- 
racter, that  he  was  appointed  surgeon  in  the  22d  regi- 
ment of  foot  then  stationed  in  the  island  of  Minorca. 
During  a  residence  of  thirteen  years  in  that  island, 
whatever  time  could  be  spared  from  attending  the 
duties  of  his  station,  he  employed  either  in  investigat- 
ing the  nature  of  epidemic  diseases,  or  in  gratifying 
the  passion  he  early  imbibed  for  anatomy. 

In  1749,  he  left  Minorca,  and  came  to  Ireland  with 
his  regiment;  and  in  the  autumn  following,  went  to 
London,  and,  during  the  publication  of  "  The  Dis- 
eases of  J^Iinorca,"  attended  Dr.  Hunter's  anatomical 
lectures.  In  the  publication  of  this  book,  he  was  ma- 
terially assisted  by  his  friend  Dr.  Fothergill. 

Of  this  work,  the  following  eulogium  has  been  pro- 
nounced by  a  competent  judge.  "  It  forms  a  just 
model  for  the  imitation  of  future  medical  writers  ;  it 
not  only  exhibits  an  accurate  state  of  the  air,  but  a 
minute  detail  of  the  vegetable  productions  of  the 
island  ;  and  concludes  with  medical  observations,  im- 
portant in  every  point  of  view,  and,  in  some  instances, 
either  new,  or  applied  in  a  manner,  which  preceding 
practloners  had  not  admitted." 

In  1751,  the  Doctor  settled  in  Dublin  ;  and,  in  imi- 
tation of  Munro  and  Hunter,  began  to  give  annual 
lectures  on  anatomy  :  and,  in  a  few  years,  after  his 
coming  to  that  city,  he  was  admitted  as  a  lecturer 
on  anatomy,  in  the  university.  In  the  year  1784,  the 
College  of  Physicians  there,  elected  him  an  honorary 
member,  at  which  time,  he  was  promoted  from  lec- 
turer to  be  professor  in  anatomy.  He  had,  likewise, 
the  honour  of  bein^q;  one  cf  the  oriirinal  members  of 


$2  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

the  Irish  Academy,  for  promoting  Arts  and  Sciences, 
which  is  now  established  by  Royal  authority.     / 

His  character  may  in  part,  be  ascertained  from  his 
epistolary  correspondence.  In  one  of  his  letters  to 
Dr.  Cuming,  he  modestly  concludes,  "  My  greatest 
ambition  is  to  be  reputed  a  well-meaning  member  of 
society,  who  wished  to  be  useful  in  his  station,  and, 
who  was  always  of  opinion,  that  honesty  is  the  best 
policy,  and  that  a  good  name  is  better  than  riches." 
In  another  letter  to  the  same  friend,  written  in  1785, 
he  says  "  In  the  year  1772,  increasing  business  and 
declining  health,  obliged  me  to  commit  the  chief  care 
of  my  annual  anatomical  course,  for  the  instruction  of 
students  in  physic  and  surgery,  to  my  favourite  pupil 
Dr.  Purcel,  who  has  not  only  kept  it  up  ever  since, 
but  improved  it,  so  as  to  advance  its  reputation  and  his 
own  :  yet  still  I  continue  to  read,  as  I  have  done  for 
upwards  of  twenty  years,  to  a  crowded  audience,  a 
short  course  of  lectures,  the  design  of  which  is  to  give 
to  general  scholars,  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  ani- 
mal kingdom,  and  to  point  out  to  them  the  conduct 
of  nature  in  forming  their  various  tribes,  and  fitting 
their  several  organs  to  their  respective  modes  of  life  ; 
this  affords  me  an  opportunity  of  exciting  in  my  hear- 
ers, an  eager  desire  for  anatomical  knowledge,  by 
shewing  them  a  variety  of  elegant  preparations,  and 
of  raising  their  minds  from  the  creature  to  the  creator, 
whose  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness  is  no  where  dis- 
played to  greater  advantage,  than  in  the  formation  of 
animals." 

About  1774,  on  the  death  of  his  only  brother,  in 
Scotland,  he  sent  for  his  surviving  family  consisting  of 
the  widow  and  nine  children,  and  settled  them  in 
Dublin,  that  he  might  have  it  more  in  his  power  to  af- 
ford them  that  assistance  and  protection,  w^hich  they 
might  stand  in  need  of.  His  eldest  nephew  William, 
he  educated  in  the  medical  profession  ;  but  after  giv- 
ing him  the  best  education,  which  Europe  cotild  af- 
ford, and  getting  him  joined  with  himself  in  the  lee- 


^DICTIONARY*  ff3 

t-creship,  the  Doctor's  pleasing  hopes  were  most  unfor- 
tunately frustrated  by  the  young  gentleman's  death, 
which  happened  in  1784. 

Dr.  Cleghorn,  with  an  acquired  independence,  de- 
voted his  moments  of  leisure  from  the  severer  studies 
of  his  profession,  to  farming  and  horticulture.  But 
his  attention  to  this  employment,  did  not  lessen  his 
care  for  his  relations,  who,  from  a  grateful  and  afFec* 
tionate  regard,  looked  up  to  him  as  a  parent.  He 
died  in  Dec.  1789,  in  the  74th  year  of  his  age. 


CLELAND,  (John)  was  the  son  of  Col.  Cleland> 
that  celebrated  fictitious  member  of  the  Spectator's 
Club,  whom  Steele  describes  under  the  name  of  Will 
Honeycombe.  He  was  early  in  life  sent  as  consul  to 
Smyrna,  where,  perhaps,  he  first  imbibed  those  loose 
principles,  which  in  his  "  Memoirs  of  a  Woman  o£ 
Pleasure,"  are  so  dangerously  exemplified.  On  his 
return  from  Smyrna,  he  went  to  the  East-Indies,  but 
quarrelling  with  some  of  the  members  of  the  presi- 
dency of  Bombay,  he  made  a  precipitate  retreat  from 
the  East,  with  little  or  no  benefit  to  his  fortune.  Be- 
ing without  profession  or  any  settled  means  of  sub- 
sistence, he  soon  fell  into  pecuniary  embarrassments, 
which  at  last  brought  him  to  prison.  In  this  situa- 
tion, one  of  those  booksellers,  who  disgrace  the  pro- 
fession, offered  him  a  temporary  relief  for  writing  the 
work  above  alluded  to,  which  brought  a  stigma  on 
his  name,  which  time  has  not  obliterated.  For  this 
publication,  he  was  called  before  the  privy  council  ; 
and  the  circumstances  of  his  distress  being  known, 
as  well  as  his  being  a  man  of  some  parts,  John  Earl 
Granville,  the  then  president,  rescued  him  from  the 
like  temptation,  by  getting  him  a  pension  of  444  dol- 
lars per  annum,  which  he  enjoyed  till  his  death;  and 
which  had  so  much  the  desired  effect,  that,  except 
"  The  Memoirs  of  a  Coxcomb,"  which  has  some 
smack  of   dissipated   manners,  and  "  The  Man  of 

Vol.  Ih  No.  9.  E 


5*  KEW  BlOGRAPItiCAt 

Honour,"  written  as  an  amende  honourable  for  bis  for- 
mer exceptionable  book  ;  he  dedicated  the  rest  of  his 
life  to  political  and  philological  studies.  He  died 
Jan.  23d  1789,  at  the  advanced  age  of  82. 

CLEMENT  XIV.  (Pope)  whose  original  name 
was  Francis  Laurentius  Ganganelli,  was  born  at  St. 
Angelo,  in  the  duchy  of  Urbino,  31st  October  1705, 
and  chosen  Pope,  though  not  yet  a  bishop,  19th  May 
1769,  at  which  time,  the  see  of  Rome  was  involved 
in  a  most  disagreeable  and  dangerous  contest  with  the 
House  of  Bourbon. 

The  duties  of  a  prince  and  pastor  are  very  difncult 
to  reconcib,  as  policy  often  appears  to  exact  what 
religion  does  not  allow,  for  if  the  character  of  a  popt 
inspires  clemency,  that  of  a  sovereign  enjoins  severity. 
Thus  we  read,  that  Sixtus  V.  was  a  great  monarch 
without  being  a  bigot  ;  and  tliat  S.  Pius  was  a  good 
pope  ?.nd  a  poor  prince.  This  made  an  historian  say^ 
that  such  pontiffs,  as  had  been  taken  from  the  order 
of  the  Cordeliers,  and  were  six  in  number,  were  all 
possessed  ot  the  talent  of  governing  well ;  and  those, 
who  had  been  of  the  order  of  the  Dominicans  were 
more  capable  of  edifying,  Clement  was  the  pope,  w^ho 
inost  united  the  above  qualities,  as  a  manly  piety  is 
more  analogous  with  sovereignty,  than  an  efi^eminate 
and  pusilanimous  devotion.  His  religion  bore  the 
impression  of  his  character  and  his  genius.  It  was- 
strong  and  elevated,  otherwise  he  would  often  have 
been  stopped  in  his  operations  ;  but  seeing  all  things 
as  a  great  man,  and  rising  superior  to  public  rumours, 
prejudices  and  even  events,  he  knew  how  to  be  a 
prince  and  a  pcntiiT. 

The  little  artitices  practised  by  narrow  minds,  to 
obtain  their  ends  he  was  a  stranger  to.  Though  pe- 
culiarly calculated  for  a  court,  which  is  accused  of 
being  the  very  vortex  of  intrigue  and  chicane,  he  ne- 
ver deceived  the  politicians,  but  by  remaining  silent : 


DICTIONARY,  55 

for,  when  he  'spoke,  he  uttered  the  truth.  He  was 
too  upright  a  man  to  act  by  sinister  means,  and  was, 
indeed,  too  great  a  genius  to  stand  in  need  of  them. 

No  one  knew  better  when  to  seize  the  proper  mo- 
ment, when  he  neither  w^as  slow  nor  precipitate. 
The  hour  is  not  come,  he  w^ould  say,  when  he  was 
solicited  to  hasten  some  operation.  He  wrote  to  Car>» 
dinal  Stoppani,  "  I  mistrust  my  vivacity,  and  there- 
tore  I  shall  not  answer,  till  the  end  of  a  week,  con- 
cerning w^hat  your  eminence  requires  of  me.  Our 
imagination  is  often  our  greatest  enemy  ;  I  am  striving 
to  weary  it  before  1  act.  Matters  of  business,  like 
fruits,  have  their  maturity,  and  it  is  only  when  they 
are  bastings,  that  we  should  think  of  accomplishing 
them." 

His  manner  of  reading  resembled  his  other  opera- 
lions  :  he  abstained  from  books,  if  he  found  iiimself 
disposed  to  reflect  ;  and,  as  sovereigns  are  led  by  cirj 
cumstances,  from  whence  we  may  conclude,  that  all 
men  are  born  dependent,  lie  often  kept  vigils,  great 
part  of  the  night,  and  slept  in  the  day-time.  "  I'heir 
rule,"  he  used  to  say,  "  is  the  compass  of  monks  and 
friars  ;  but  the  wants  of  tlieir  people,  is  the  clock 
of  sovereigns.  Let  it  be  v/hat  hour  it  may,  if  they 
want  us,  w^e  must  attend  to  them." 

This  maxim,  when  he  was  pope,  often  took  him 
from  his  books..  He  was  of  the  opinion,  that  all  the 
books  in  the  world  might,  without  any  detriment  to 
science,  be  reduced  to  a  few  thousand  volumes  ;  and, 
that  those  of  the  present  age  were  nothing  but  pic- 
tures, which  daubers  had  found  the  art  of  cleaning, 
in  order  to  present  them,  in  the  properest  light  to 
public  view.  When  we  consider  the  splendour  and 
solidity  of  his  talents,  it  is  to  be  lamented,  that  he  pro- 
duced nothing  in  the  literary  way,  though  some  have 
ascribed  to  him  part  of  the  works  of  Benedict  XIV". 
But  he  was  so  thoroughly  persuaded,  that  there  were 
too  many  writers,  that  he  w^as  always  fearful  of  in- 
creasing the  number. 


3(5  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

'\Vhen  any  one  mentioned  to  him  the  fashionabl* 
productions,  which  appeared  against  Christianity,  he 
would  say  *'  the  more  there  are,  the  more  the  world 
will  be  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  it."  He  obser- 
ved, "  that  all  the  writers,  who  opposed  Christianity, 
knew  only  how  to  dig  a  ditch,  and  that  was  all,  they 
could  supply  its  place  with."  He  said,  that  "  Vol- 
taire, whose  poetry  he  admired,  attacked  religion  so 
often,  only  because  it  was  troublesome  to  him  :  and 
that  J.  J.  Rousseau  was  a  painter,  who  always  forgot 
the  heads,  and  who  excelled  only  in  the  drapery." 

He  explained  himself  one  day,  upon  a  work  call- 
ed "  The  System  of  Nature  5"  and  added,  "  what 
hurts  me  is,  that  the  more  it  is  founded  upon  false 
principles,  the  more,  in  an  age  like  ours,  it  will  gain 
reputation  and  readers  ;  and  it  will  receive  an  addi- 
tional value  by  its  being  seriously  refuted."  He  af- 
terwards observed,  that  the  author  of  this  book  is  as 
bad  as  a  madman,  who  imagines,  that,  by  changing 
the  master  of  the  house,  he  can  dispose  of  it,  just  as 
he  pleases,  without  reflecting,  that  no  creature  caa 
breathe,  but  by  existing,  in  God.  But  every  age  is 
distinguished  by  a  new  fangled  mode  of  thinking. 
After  the  times  of  superstition,  are  come  the  days  of 
incredulity  ;  and  the  man,  who  formerly  adored  a 
inultitude  of  Gods,  now  aifects  not  to  acknowledge 
any  one.  Virtue,  vice,  immorality,  annihilation,  all 
appear  to  him  synonimous,  provided  some  insignifi- 
cant pamphlet  serves  him  as  a  rampart  against  hea- 
ven :  and  it  is  in  the  very  bosom  of  religion,  that  these 
scandalous  opinions  originate  and  multiply." 

To  judge  properly  of  the  genius  of  Clement,  we 
should  view  him  with  some  friends  conferring  upon 
the  subjects  of  the  times,  and  the  means  of  recon- 
ciling the  interests  of  religion  with  tliose  of  princes. 
When  the  greatest  lights  had  been  thrown  by  these  his 
counsellors,  upon  the  subject  of  debate,  Ganganelli, 
as  X\\Q  primum  mobile  of  their  deliberations,  decided 
with  manly  resolution.    The  slightest  error  would 


DICTIONARY.  ST 

have  been  of  the  most  dangerous  consequence.  The 
chief  point  in  question,  was  to  weigh  the  rights  of 
the  sovereign  pontiff,  the  motives,  upon  which  he 
acted,  and  to  keep  within  the  bounds  that  support  the 
equilibrium  between  the  Roman  See  and  the  other  - 
potentates. 

During  some  part  of  the  summer,  it  was  usual  for 
him  to  retire  to  Castlegandolfe,  a  castle  situated  about 
four  leagues  from  Rome,  near  the  lake  Albano,  which 
commands  the  most  agreeable  prospect,  and  which, 
during  the  hot  season,  is  the  usual  residence  of  the 
Sovereign  Pontiff.  It  was  here,  that  to  be  intimate- 
ly acquainted  with  Clement,  we  should  view  him 
anatomizing  an  insect,  analyzing  a  flower,  pursuing 
the  phaenomena  of  nature,  and,  by  degrees,  rising 
up  to  her  author;  and,  at  length,  taking  a  general 
view  of  earth  and  heaven  ;  or  collecting  himself  with- 
in himself,  considering  man ;  or,  at  other  times,  fa- 
miliarly conversing  with  his  friends  and  intimates. 

Sometimes  weary  of  meditation,  he  would  retire 
with  Father  Francis,  an  old  friend,  whom  he  had 
known  in  the  convent,  into  a  bower  sequestered  from 
the  eye  of  curiosity.  Here  the  cloyster  anecdotes 
amused  them,  and  they  seemed  in  a  perfect  state  of 
equality.  One  day,  Clement  viewing  him,  repeated 
twice  these  words  :  "  He  has  kept  his  garb,  and  is 
happier  than  I,  who  wear  the  tiara.  It  was  decreed 
I  should  be  a  pope,  and  I  much  fear  (here  he  paused) 
however,  we  must  submit  to  the  will  of  God." 

The  act,  which  more  especially  signalized  his  pope- 
dom, was  the  suppression  of  the  Jesuits.  This  im- 
portant business  had  engrossed  his  attention  from  the 
commencement  of  his  reign;  but  he  did  not  finally 
decide  upon  it,  till  the  year  1773.  The  public  had 
begun  to  imagine,  that  he  had  lost  sight  of  that  grand 
object,  whilst,  he  only  aimed  at  gaining  time.  He 
carefully  examined  the  numerous  accusations  against 
the  society,  and  also  their  vindications,  whilst  equally 
mistrusting  the  eulogiums  and  the  sarcasms  passed 


^S  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

upon  them,  he  was  biassed  neither  by  their  panegy- 
rists, nor  their  satyrists.  No  man  was  ever  more  im- 
j)arlial.  Equally  abstracting  himself  from  his  own 
inclination,  as  well  as  all  prejudices,  he  judged  in  the 
^ame  manner,  as  posterity  necessarily  must. 

The  people,  ever  idolizing  him,  ceased  not  to  bless 
his  reign  ;  and  their  perseverance  in  so  doing,  consti- 
tutes his  greatest  eulogium.  It  is  well  known,  that 
the  Romans  easily  change  from  enthusiasm  to  hatred  y 
that  they  have  often  calumniated  those  pontiffs,  whom 
they  had  the  most  ilattered,  and  that  a  pope  to  please 
tliem  should  not  reign  above  three  years.  Unfortu- 
nately, on  account  of  their  laziness,  they  constantly 
hope,  that  a  change  of  masters  must  be  attended 
with  an  encrease  of  happiness,  just  as  sick  men  are 
apt  to  fancy,  that  they  will  be  much  easier,  when  they 
are  placed  in  another  posture. 

The  glory  of  Clement  would  not  have  been  com- 
plete, if  he  had  not  contributed  to  the  embellishment 
of  Rome,  a  city  so  susceptible  of  ornaments,  and  so 
fruitful  in  .riches  proper  to  decorate  it.  He  accord- 
inglv,  amongst  other  things,  composed  a  museum 
comprising  every  thing  that  could  gratify  the  curiosity 
of  antiquaries  and  travellers,  that  is  to  say,  the  scar- 
cest curiosities,  that  had  been  transmitted  by  the  an- 
cients.   • 

It  was  his  opinion,  that  religion  had  often  suffered 
by  an  indiscreet  zeal,  and  in  order,  as  rnxuch  as  pos- 
sible to  prevent  this  from  happening  in  his  time,  he 
wisely  observed  a  great  moderation.  He  used  to  say, 
*'  We  too  often  lay  aside  charity  to  maintain  faith, 
without  reflecting,  that  if  it  is  not  allowed  to  tolerate 
error,  it  is  forbidden  to  hate  and  persecute  those,  who 
have  unfortunately  embraced  it.'*  How  fortunate 
would  it  have  been  for  the  world,  and  the  cause  of 
Christianity,  if  all  popes  and  prelates  had,  in  former 
times,  been  actuated  by  ideas  equally  liberal  and  en- 
li^'htencd  ? 


©iCTIONART.  ^9 

To  the  above  general  character  of  this  very  emi- 
lient  man,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  add  the  following 
particulars  of  his  death,  which  happened  in  the  year 
1774.  That  event  was  immediately  attributed  to  poi- 
son, asjfanold  man  of  seventy,  loaded  with  infirmi- 
ties, could  not  quit  the  world  without  violence.  His 
proceedings  against  the  Jesuits  furnished^  in  the  minds 
of  some  people,  a  plausible  pretext  for  this  charge, 
and  the  malevolence  of  their  enemies,  embellished 
it  with  circumstances.  Even  the  ministers  of  those 
powers,  who  had  procured  their  suppression,  coun- 
tenanced the  report,  as  if  falsehood  was  necessary  to 
prevent  the  revival  of  a  body,  which  had  already  sunk 
in  its  full  strength,  a  mighty  sacrifice  to  their  com- 
bined resentment.  The  charge  was  the  more  ridicu- 
lous, as  the  pontiff  had,  for  a  long  time,  laboured 
under  a  painful  disorder  ;  yet  the  report  was  propa- 

fated  with  the  greatest  industry,  and  though  the 
Vench  and  Spanish  ministers  were  present  at  the 
opening  of  the  body,  the  most  horrible  circumstan- 
ces were  published  relative  to  that  operation;  such 
as  that  the  head  fell  off  from  the  body,  that  the  stench 
killed  the  operators,  &:c.  It  availed  little,  that  the 
operators  shewed  themselves  alive  and  in  good  health, 
and  that  the  surgeons  and  physicians  proved  the  false- 
hood of  every  part  of  the  report. 

Clement  XIV.  appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  a 
virtuous  character,  and  possessed  of  considerable  abi- 
lities. His  letters  breathe  great  liberality  of  senti- 
ment. 

CLEOPATRA,  (Queen  of  Egypt)  famous  for 
her  wit,  beauty  and  intrigue,  was  the  daughter  of  Pto- 
lemy Auletes,  king  of  that  country,  who,  dying  in 
the  year  5 1  before  Christ,  bequeathed  his  crown  to 
the  eldest  of  his  sons,  and  the  eldest  of  his  daughters; 
ordering  them  to  be  joined  to  each  other  in  marriage, 
according  to  the  usage  of  their  family,  and  jointly  to 


ilO  kew  biographical 

govern  the  kingdom  of  Egypt.  They  were  both  very 
young,  Cleopatra  the  eldest  being  only  seventeen, 
and,  therefore,  he  committed  them  to  the  tuition  of 
the  Roman  Senate.  They  could  not,  however,  agree 
either  to  be  married  or  to  reign  together,  and^  the 
cause  was  brought  before  Julius  Csesar,  who^  in  pursuit 
of  Pompey,  had,  at  that  time,  come  to  Alexandria. 

Advocates  w^ere  appointed,  on  both  sides,  to  plead 
the  matter  before  him ;  but  Cleopatra,  hearing  that 
Caesar  was  unboundedly  fond  of  w^omen,  laid  a  plot  to 
attach  him  first  to  her  person  and  next  to  her  cause  ; 
for  she  made  no  scruple  of  prostituting  herself  for  lust 
or  for  interest,  according  as  slie  was  actuated  by 
either  of  those  passions.  Sending  to  Caesar,  therefore, 
she  desired  that  she  might  be  permitted  to  plead  her 
cause  before  him  in  person.  This  request  being  com- 
plied with,  Caesar  was  too  sensible  of  the  charms  of 
beauty  not  to  be  touched  with  those  of  Cleopatra. 
She  was  then  in  the  prime  of  her  youth,  about  the 
20th  year  of  her  age,  and  one  of  those  perfect  beau^ 
ties,  whose  every  feature  has  its  particular  charm,  all 
which  was  seconded  by  an  admirable  wit,  command- 
ing address,  and  withal  a  voice  so  harmonious  and  be- 
witching, that,  it  is  said,  that  single  perfection,  with- 
out the  help  of  her  eyes,  than  which  nothing  could 
be  finer,  was  enough  to  soften  the  most  obdurate 
heart.  In  short,  Caesar,  the  mighty  conqueror  of  the 
world,  was  instantaneously  subdued,  by  the  graces  of 
this  bewitching  woman,  and  is  supposed  to  have  had 
a  son  by  her,  who  was,  afterwards,  from  his  name, 
called  Caesarion. 

On  the  morning  after  their  first  interview,  Caesar 
sent  for  Ptolemy,  and  pressed  him  to  receive  his  sis- 
ter, on  her  own  terms  :  but  Ptolemy  perceiving,  that 
instead  of  a  judge,  he  was  become  her  advocate,  ap- 
pealed to  the  people,  and  put  the  whole  city  in  an 
uproar.  A  war  commenced,  and  the  matter  being 
soon  determined  by  a  battle,  in  which  Cccsar  came 


DICTIONARY*  41 

QiFconqueror,  Ptolemy,  on  his  endeavouring  to  escape, 
over  the  Nile,  was  drowned. 

Upon  this,  Cssar  setled  the  kingdom  upon  Cleo- 
patra, and  her  younger  brother,  which  was  in  effect, 
to  put  the  whole  into  her  own  hands,  as  he  was,  at 
that  time,  only  eleven  years  old,  and,  of  course,  in- 
capable of  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  state  ;  and 
that  he  never  might  interfere,  Cleopatra  made  away  ■ 
with  him  by  poison,  as  soon  as  he  arrived  at  his  fif- 
teenth year.  Cleopatra  had  also  a  sister  named  Arsinoe, 
who,  siding  in  the  war  with  her  elder  brother  Ptolemy, 
was  taken  prisoner  by  Caesar,  aqd  carried  to  Rome, 
in  order  to  grace  his  triumph.  She  was  afterwards 
dismissed  by  him  ;  but  not  being  suffered  to  return  to 
Egypt,  lest  she  should  excite  new  troubles  against 
Cleopatra,  she  settled  in  Asia.  There  Antony  found 
her,  after  the  battle  of  Phiilppi  j  and,  at  the  re- 
quest of  Cleopatra,  caused  her  to  be  put  to  death. 
It  was  for  the  sake  of  this  lewd  woman,  that  Caesar 
made  this  infamous  war,  which  was,  likewise,  ex- 
ceedingly dangerous,  because  a  very  small  part  of 
his  forces  had  arrived,  and  his  wanton  dalliances 
with  her  detained  him  longer  in  Egypt,  than  the  state 
of  his  affairs  could  well  admit. 

Cleopatra  followed  Caesar  to  Rome,  and  was  there 
when  he  was  killed  in  the  senate  house  ;  but  being 
terrified  by  that  accident,  and  the  subsequent  disor- 
ders of  the  city,  she  ran  away  presently  with  great 
precipitation.  After  the  battle  of  Philippi,  Cleopa- 
tra^  was  summoned  by  Antony  to  answer  the  accu- 
sation against  her,  as  if  she  had  favoured  the  interest 
of  Crassus.  She  had,  indeed,  done  so,  in  some 
measure,  and  she  well  knew,  that  this  had  not  been 
very  pleasant  to  the  triumviri.  She  depended,  how^- 
ever,  on  her  wit  and  beauty  5  and  persuaded  herself 
that  those  charms,  with  which  she  had  conquered 
Caisar's  heart,  were  still  powerful  enough  to  conquer 
Antony's,  for  she  was  not  yet  above  twenty-six  years 
of  age.     Full  of  these  assurances,  she  went  to  An- 

Vol.  II.  No.  9.  F 


4*2  n"ew  biographical 

tony,  and  by  her  arts,  and  the  charms  of  her  per- 
son^  drew  him  into  those  snares,  which  held  hini  en- 
slaved as  long  as  he  lived,  and,  finally,  caused  his 
death.  For  the  present,  she  accompanied  him  as  far 
as  Tyre,  and  there  taking  leave  of  him,  returned  to 
Egypt,  firmly  persuaded,  that  he  could  not  stay  long 
behind  her.  Antony  soon  followed  her,  and  spent 
the  winter  with  her,  iu  scenes  of  the  utmost  dissipa- 
tion and  extravagance,  which  she,  every  day,  con- 
trived to  vary.  In  short,  she  was  probably  the  most 
voluptuous,  as  w^ell  as  the  most  profuse  woman,  that 
history  has  recorded 

The  passion  of  Antony  for  Cleopatra,  however,  and 
the  gifts  he  daily  made  her  of  Roman  provinces,  rais- 
ed great  murmurings  at  Rome,  which  Octavius  pri- 
vately abetted  and  encouraged  ;  because  he  partly 
out  of  a  desire  to  reign  alone,  and  partly  to  resent  the 
ill  usage  of  his  sister  Octavia,  whom  Antony  had 
married,  wanted  much  to  break  with  him.  To  pave 
the  way  for  this,  v\'hen  Antony  returned  from  his  un- 
fortunate expedition  against  the  Parthians,  he  sent 
Octavia  to  meet  him.  Antony  was  then  at  Leucopo- 
lis,  where  he  waited  for  Cleopatra  with  great  impati- 
ence. She  came  at  length,  as  did  almost,  at  the  same 
time,  a  messenger  from  Octavia,  who  staid  at  Athens, 
This  was  very  unpleasant  news  for  Cleopatra,  who 
had  great  reason  to  dread  so  powerful  a  rival.  She, 
therefore,  imm.ediately  betook  herself  to  those  parts, 
which  she  had,  ail  her  life,  practised  with  so  great 
success  ;  she  feigned  a  deep  melancholy,  almost  en- 
tirely abstained  from  food,  and  when  she  was  near 
Antony,  she  beheld  him  in  the  most  languishing  man- 
ner, let  fall  tears,  in  his  presence,  and  turned  away 
her  face,  as  if  she  desired  to  hide  from  him  those 
marks  of  grief.  Half  of  this  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  have  overcome  Antonyms  weakness,  who,  after  he 
had  sent  word  to  Octavia  to  return  to  Rome,  waited 
upon  Cleopatra  back  to  Alexandria,  where  he  passed 
the  winter  along  vs'ith  her  in  riot  and  debauchery  j 


DICTIONARY^  43 

and,  as  if  he  had  meant  to  vex  the  Roman  people,  he, 
in  a  solemn  manner,  disposed  of  all  those  provinces, 
which  fell  to  his  share,  in  the  division  of  the  empire, 
in  favour  of  Cleopatra  and  her  children. 

On  this,  Octavius  thought  proper  to  declare  against 
him,  and  a  war  commenced,  which  was  for  some  time 
carried  on  with  great  vigour  on  both  sides.  It  would 
be  foreign  to  our  purpose  to  give  an  account  of  the 
different  engagements,  which  w^as  fought  betvi''een 
them ;  but  it  is  well  known,  that  the  battle  of  Ac- 
tium  determined  the  victory  in  favour  of  Octavius, 
where  Cleopatra  flying  first,  Antony  hastened  after 
her.  Upon  this  occasion,  however,  he  conceived 
great  displeasure  against  Cleopatra,  and  continued 
three  days  without  seeing  he  but,  afterwards  reco- 
vering his  usual  humour,  he  again  devoted  himself 
to  pleasure.  After  they  had  returned  to  Egypt,  and 
found  themselves  abandoned  by  all  their  allies,  they 
sent  to  make  proposals  to  Octavius.  Cleopatra  asked 
the  kingdom  of  Egypt  for  her  children,  and  Antony 
desired  he  might  be  permitted  to  live  as  a  private 
man  at  Athens,  if  Octavius  was  not  willing  he  should 
tarry  in  Egypt.  Octavius  absolutely  rejected  Antony's 
proposal,  and  sent  to  Cleopatra,  that  he  would  refuse 
her  nothing,  which  was  reasonable,  if  she  would  only 
drive  Antony  out  of  her  kingdom.  She  refused  to 
act  openly  against  Antony,  but  betrayed  him  in  every 
offer,  which  he  made,  till  she  obliged  him  to  put 
an  end  to  his  own  life,  for  fear  of  falling  into  Octa- 
vius' hands. 

When  Antony  was  dead,  Cleopatra  most  passion- 
ately bemoaned  his  loss  :  however  upon  Octavius'  ap- 
proach to  Alexandria,  she  was  quite  attentive  to  her 
own  security.  Near  the  temple  of  Isis,  she  had  rais- 
ed a  stately  building,  w^hich  she  designed  for  her  se- 
pulchre, into  which  she  now  retired  carrying  along 
with  her  all  her  immense  treasures.  It  was  filled,  be- 
sides, with  torches,  faggots  and  other  combustible 
matter,  so  that  Octavius,  fearing  lest,  if  driven  to  de^> 


44  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

pair,  she  should  burn  herself  with  these  vast  riches^ 
contrived  to  give  her  hopes,  that  she  might  expect 
the  best  usage  from  his  esteem.  The  truth  is,  Octa- 
vius  earnestly  desired  to  expose  this  queen,  in  his 
triumph  to  the  Romans  ;  and  v^dth  this  view  sent 
Proculus,  to  employ  all  his  address  to  seize  her.  It 
was,  for  some  time,  impracticable  to  execute  his  de- 
sign, but  he,  at  last  stole  in  at  a  window  with  two 
others,  which  Cleopatra  perceiving  drew  out  a  dag- 
ger, with  a  view  to  stab  herself.  The  Roman,  on 
seeing  this,  caught  hold  of  her  arm,  saying,  "  will 
you,  madam,  injure  both  yourself  and  Octavius,  by- 
depriving  him  of  the  most  illustrious  testimony  he  can 
give  of  his  generosity,  and  make  the  gentlest  of 
princes  pass  for  cruel.'*  He  then  took  the  dagger 
from  her,  and  carefully  searched  her,  lest  she  should 
conceal  any  poison  about  her. 

Octavius  was  greatly  rejoiced  at  having  this  lofty 
woman  in  his  power,  who  had  lifted  the  crown  of 
Egypt,  above  the  Roman  empire,  yet  commanded 
her  to  be  treated,  in  all  respects,  like  a  queen.  She, 
however,  became  so  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  her  li- 
berty, that  she  resolved  to  starve  herself  to  death  ;  but 
her  children  being  threatened  with  destruction,  in 
case  of  her  adherence  to  her  resolution,  she  was 
obliged  to  desist. 

Octavius,  at  length  resolved  to  see  her.  He  found 
her  in  bed  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  him,  she  rose  in 
her  shift,  and  threw  herself  at  his  feet.  Octavius 
civilly  lifted  her  up,  and  sat  down  by  her  bedside. 
She  began  to  justify  her  ;  but  the  proofs  against  her 
being  too  notorious,  she  turned  her  justification  into 
prayers,  and  put  into  his  hand  an  inventory  of  her 
treasure  and  jewels.  Seleucus,  her  treasurer  had  fol- 
lowed Octavius,  and,  by  a  barbarous  ingratitude,  at 
firmed,  that  his  mistress  had  concealed  many  things, 
which  were  not  in  that  account.  Upon  this,  Cleopa» 
tra's  choler  arose  :  she  threw  herself  out  of  bed,  and 
running  tQ  .this  perfidious  officer,  seized  him  by  the 


DICTIONARY.  45 

hair,  and  beat  him  severely.  Her  anger  might  be 
real,  yet  the  character  of  this  woman  makes  one  rea- 
dy to  suspect,  that  it  was  only  to  display  her  beautiful 
shape,  by  which  she  had  still  some  hopes  of  captiva- 
ting- Octavius.  But  if  this  was  her  object,  she  entire- 
ly failed  ;  he  only  laughed  at  the  circumstance,  and 
led  her  to  bed. 

Having  private  notice  soon  after,  that  she  was  to 
be  carried  to  Rome,  within  three  days,  she  caused 
herself  to  be  bitten  by  an  asp,  which  was  brought 
to  her  concealed  in  a  basket  of  figs  ;  and  thus  died 
this  princess,  whose  wit,  beauty  and  insatiable  ambi- 
tion made  so  much  noise  in  the  world,  after  she  had 
reigned,  from  the  death  of  her  father,  22  years,  and 
lived  39.  With  her  ended  the  family  of  the  Ptolemies 
in  Egypt,  after  they  had  reigned  from  the  death  of 
Alexander  294  years. 


CLERC,  (John  Le)  a  most  celebrated  writer  and 
universal  scholar,  was  born  at  Geneva,  March  19th 
1657.  After  he  had  been  initiated  in  the  first  princi- 
ples of  literature  by  his  father,  who  was  a  physician 
and  Greek  professor  in  that  city,  he  was  at  eight 
years  of  age,  sent  to  the  grammar  school,  where  he 
soon  discovered  an  uncommon  inclination  to  books 
and  such  a  genius  for  poetry,  that,  if  he  had  duly  cul- 
tivated it,  he  would  probably  have  gained  no  small 
reputation  in  that  way.  But  the  more  serious  studies, 
to  which  he  applied  himself,  made  him  eiUirely  neg- 
lect poetry,  so  that  he  never  wrote  verses,  but  on 
some  particular  occasions. 

When  he  was  about  sixteen  years  old,  he  began 
the  study  of  philosophy,  in  which  he  spent  two  years ; 
but  did  not  yet  enter  on  the  study  of  divinity,  thinking 
it  better  to  employ  another  year  in  perfecting  himself 
still  more  in  the  belles  lettres,  and  also  in  acquiring 
the  elements  of  the  Hebrew  tongue.  Me,  in  the 
mean  time,  read  all  the  books,  which  could  any  way 


4G  VEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

improve  him  in  his  pursuits  :  and,  it  was  this  con- 
stant assiduity  and  application,  to  which  he  inured 
himself  in  his  youth,  that  enabled  him  afterwards  to 
go  thfough  so  much  uninterrupted  fatigue  of  reading 
and  writing,  and  to  publish  such  a  vast  variety  of 
works. 

After  he  had  passed  through  the  usual  forms  of  stu- 
dy at  Geneva,  and  had  lost  his  father  in  1676,  he  went 
to  France  in  1678,  but  returning  the  year  after,  he 
was  ordained  as  a  clergyman,  with  the  general  ap- 
plause of  his  examiners.  In  1682,  he  visited  En- 
gland, chiefly  with  a  view  to  learn  the  language. 
He  preached  several  times  in  the  French  churches  in 
London,  and  visited  several  bishops  and  men  of  learn- 
ing ;  but  the  air  of  the  town  not  agreeing  with  him, 
he  went  to  Holland,  within  the  year,  where  he  set- 
tled. He  preached  before  a  synod,  held  by  the  re- 
monstrants, at  Rotterdam,  in  1684  ;  and  was  admit- 
ted professor  of  philosophy,  polite  literature  and  He- 
brew, in  their  school  at  Amsterdam. 

The  remainder  of  his  life  affords  nothing  but  the 
history  of  his  works,*  and  of  the  controversies  he  was 
engaged  in  ;  but  these  would  lead  into  too  extensive 
a  detail.  He  continued  to  read  regular  lectures,  as 
professor  of  philosophy,  and  the  belles  letters  -,  and 
because  there  was  no  single  authors,  who  appeared 
clear  and  full  enough  for  his  purpose,  he  projected  a 
design  of  drawing  up  some  treatises  himself.  With 
this  view,  he  published  in  1691,  his  "  Logic,  Onto- 
logy and  Pneumatology  ;"  arid  to  complete  his  course, 
he,  in  1695,  added  his  "  Natural  Philosophy."  He 
also  published  his  Art  of  Criticism  ;  a  commentary  on 
the  Old  Testament  ;  an  Ecclesiastical  History  of  the 
two  First  Centuries  ;  a  French  translation  of  the  New 
Testament  &c.  This  last  work,  which  was  published 
in  1703,  made  a  great  noise,  and  occasioned  him  to 
be  exclaimed  against  as  a  socinian.  Some  ministers 
of  Amsterdam,  did  all  they  could  to  persuade  the 
magistrates  to  prohibit  it,  and  the  Walloon  synods  also 


DICTIONARY.  47 

endeavoured   to  have  it  suppressed  ;  but  neither  of 
them  succeeded  in  their  attempts. 

In  1786,  he  had  begun  with  M.  De  la  Crose^  his 
"  Bibliothequc  Universelle  and  Historique,"  which 
was  continued  to  the  year  1693,  inclusive,  in  26  vols. 
In  1703  he  began  his  "  Bibliotheque  choisee;''  by 
way  of  supplement  to  the  former;  and  continued  it 
till  1714,  when  he  commenced  another  work  on  the 
same  plan,  called  "  Bibliotheque  Ancienne  et  Mo- 
derne,**  which  he  continued  till  1728.  These  Blblio- 
theques  of  le  Clerc,  may  justly  be  deemed  excellent 
store-houses  of  useful  knowledge ;  and  we  may  al- 
most say,  that  there  is  hardly  any  question  of  import- 
ance, relating  either  to  ancient  or  modern,  sacred  or 
prophane  learning,  the  merits  of  which  are  not  can- 
vassed in  some  of  these  volumes.  Besides  critical 
accounts  of  books,  many  complete  dissertations  may 
be  found  in  them,  and  also  things  of  a  historical  na- 
ture, such  as  memoirs,  lives  and  elegies  of  great 
men.  The  "  Bibliotheque  Choisee"  consists  of  28 
volumes,  and  the  "Ancienne  and  Moderne"  of  29. 
We  may  just  observe,  that  these  literary  journals  of 
le  Clerc  were  not  written  in  an  assuming  or  inquisi- 
torial manner,  but  with  a  spirit  of  impartiality  and 
candour,  which  shewed  him  solicitous  to  do  the  strict- 
est justice  to  every  author,  and  to  set  him  forth  in  the 
light  in  which  he  ought  to  be  seen. 

The  above,  which  is  only  a  part  of  the  vast  num- 
ber of  books,  published  by  Le  Clerc  abundantly 
shew,  that  he  was  a  very  laborious,  as  well  as  a  very 
learned  man.  It  is,  indeed,  probable,  that  he  w^ould 
have  been  a  m.ore  correct  writer,  if  he  had  written 
less ;  his  works,  however,  every  where  abound  with 
good  sense  and  sound  learning,  and  the  greatest  part 
of  them  will  be  valued  in  every  country,  where  liber- 
ty and  literature  maintain  their  ground. 

Notwithstanding  his  incessant  application  to  study, 
he  enjoyed  a  very  good  state  of  health  till  1728, 
when  he  was  seized  with  a  palsy   and  fever,  which 


4s  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

deprived  him  of  speech  and  almost  of  memory.  The 
malady  increased  daily  ;  and,  after  spending  the  six 
]ast  years  of  his  life  with  little  or  no  understanding, 
he  died  January  8th  1736,  in  his  seventy-ninth  year. 

CLERC,  (George  le)  See  Buffon. 

CLERKE,  (Captain  Charles)  a  celebrated 
English  navigator,  was  born  in  1740.  He  was  bred 
up  in  the  navy  from  his  youth  and  was  present  in  seve- 
ral actions,  during  the  war  of  1755.  In  that  between 
the  Bellona  and  Courageux,  he  was  in  great  danger; 
for  having  been  stationed  in  the  mizen  top,  on  board 
the  former,  th^  mast  was  carried  over  board  by  a  shot, 
and  he  fell  into  the  sea  along  with  it.  He  was,  how- 
ever, taken  up  without  having  received  any  injury. 

When  commodore  Byron  made  his  first  voyage 
round  the  world,  in  1764,  Mr.  Clerke  served  on 
board  the  ship  as  a  midshipman,  and  was  afterwards 
some  time  on  the  American  station.  In  the  year 
17G8,  he,  a  second  time,  sailed  round  the  world  in 
the  Endeavour,  under  captain  Cook,  as  master's  mate ; 
but  during  the  voyage,  succeeded  to  a  lieutenancy. 
He  returned  in  1775,  and  was  soon  after  appointed 
master  and  commander.  When  captain  Cook  under- 
took his  last  voyage,  Mr.  Clerke  was  appointed  cap- 
tain of  the  Discovery,  and,  on  the  melancholy  death 
of  captain  Cook,  14th  Feb.  1779,  succeeded  to  the 
supreme  command.  He  did  not,  however,  long  en- 
joy his  new  dignity.  Before  he  departed  from  Eng- 
land, he  had  manifest  symptoms  of  a  consumption. 
Of  this  disease  he  lingered,  during  the  whole  of  his 
voyage,  and  his  long  residence  in  the  cold  northern 
climates,  cut  off  all  hopes  of  recovery ;  but  though 
sensible  that  the  only  chance  he  had  of  prolonging  his 
life,  was  by  a  speedy  return  to  a  warmer  climate,  his 
attention  to  his  duty  was  so  great^  that  he  persevered 


aOlCTIONARY,  49 

tfi  search  of  a  passage  between  the  Asiatic  and  Ame- 
rican continents,  until  every  one  of  the  officers  was  of 
opinion,  that  it  was  impracticable.  He  bore  his  dis- 
temper with  great  firmness  and  equanimity,  retaining 
a  good  flow  of  spirits  to  the  last,  and  died  on  the  22d 
August,  1779,  in  the  38th  year  of  his  age  ;  the  ship 
being  then  within  view  of  the  coast  of  Kamptschatka, 
where  he  was  afterwards  interred  in  the  spot,  on 
which  a  church  was  to  be  erected,  it  having  been  his 
Dwn  desire  to  be  buried  in  the  church. 

^^^^^^^^^^ 

CLIVE,  (Robert)  baron  of  Plassey,  son  of 
Richard  Clive,  Esq.  of  Styche,  was  born  in  Shrop- 
shire, England,  29th  September,  1725.  In  his  early 
youth,  Robert  was  sent  to  a  private  school,  in  Cheshire, 
the  master  of  which,  observing,  that,  in  courage  and 
sagacity,  he  far  surpassed  his  fellows,  discerned  ia 
the  school-boy,  the  character  of  the  future  hero. 
"  If,"  said  he,  "  that  lad  should  live  to  be  a  man,  and 
an  opportunity  be  given  for  the  exertion  of  his  ta- 
lents, few  names  will  be  greater  than  his." 

From  this  school  at  the  age  of  eleven,  he  was  re- 
moved to  another,  in  Market-Dray  ton.  In  that  town, 
there  stands,  on  the  edge  of  a  high  hill,  an  ancient 
Gothic  church,  from  the  lofty  steeple  of  which,  at 
the  distance  of  a  few  feet  from  the  top,  there  projects 
an  old  stone  spout,  in  the  form  of  a  dragon^s  head. 
On  this  head  he  once  seated  himself,  to  the  great 
astonishment  and  terror  of  his  school-fellows,  who 
were  gazing  from  below.  Yet  he  was  not  insensible 
to  danger,  nor  ever  sought  it,  unless  when  it  produced 
applause  ;  when  he  would  run  with  eagerness  to  meet 
it :  for,  even  when  a  boy,  he  loved  honour  more  thau 
he  feared  death. 

He  afterwards  repeatedly  changed  his  instructors, 
till  the  year  1742,  when  he  obtained!  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  writer  in  the  East-India  company's  service: 
but,  from  a  dislike  to  restraint,  and  an  abhorrence  to 

Vo],  U.  No.  9.  G 


50  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

all  compulsion,  his  academical  attainments  seldom  re- 
ceived or  deserved  from  his  masters  any  particular  ap- 
plause :  but  they  all  agreed  in  giving  him  the  charact- 
er of  being  the  most  unlucky  boy  they  ever  had  in 
their  schools.  Such  were  the  first  aspects  of  a  cha- 
racter, which  soon  afterwards  commanded  the  admir- 
ation of  the  world  ! 

In  consequence  of  Mr.  Clive's  appointment,  be 
embarked  in  one  of  the  company's  ships,  and  arrived 
at  Madjras,  in  the  year  1744,  in  the  nineteenth  year 
of  his  age.  The  same  dislike  to  the  drudgery  of  the 
desk,  the  same  impatience  of  controul,  which  dis- 
tinguished him  at  school  still  marked  his  character, 
and  rendered  his  appointment  as  troublesome  to  his 
superiors,  as  it  was  irksome  to  himself.  On  one  oc- 
casion, his  conduct  to  the  Secretary,  under  whom 
the  writers  arc  placed,  was  so  inconsistent  with  the 
discipline  of  office,  that  the  Governor  to  whom  it  was 
reported,  commanded  him  to  ask  the  Secretary's  par- 
don. The  submission  was  made  in  terms  of  extreme 
rontempt,  but  the  Secretary  received  it  graciously 
and  invited  him  to  dinner,  "  no,  sir,"  replied  Clive, 
**  the  governor  never  commanded  me  to  dine  with 
you." 

Soon  after  the  surrender  of  Madras  to  the  French, 
in  September,  1746,  Clive  removed  to  Fort  St,  Da- 
vid, where  he  had  not. been  long,  till  he  happened 
to  be  engaged  in  a  party  at  cards  with  two  ensigns, 
who  were  detected  in  a  combination  to  cheat  the  rest 
cf  the  company.  The  ensigns  had  won  considerable 
sums,  which,  as  their  knavery  was  proved,  the  los- 
ers at  first,  refused  to  pay;  but  the  threats  of  the  two 
gamblers,  soon  intimidated  all  but  Clive,  who  still 
persisted  in  his  refusal,  and  accepted  of  the  challenge 
which  the  boldest  of  them  gave.  Clive  delivered  his 
fire,  but  his  antagonist  reserved  his,  and  quitting  his 
ground,  presented  his  pistol  to  Mr.  Clives'  head,  and 
bade  him  ask  his  life.  After  some  hesitation,  Clive 
complied,  but  his  antagonist  telling  him,  he  must  also 


DICTIONARY.  SI 

recant  the  expressions  he  had  used  to  his  dishonour, 
and  promise  payment  of  the  money.  "  Fire  and  be 
d — d/'  said  CJive,  "  I  said  you  cheated;  I  say  so 
still,  and  will  never  pay  you."  The  ensign  finding 
that  all  remonstrances  were  vain,  called  him  a  mad- 
man, and  threw  away  his  pistol.  When  Clive's  ac- 
quaintances complimented  him  on  his  behaviour  on 
this  occasion,  he  made  the  following  remark  :  "  The 
man  has  given  me  my  life,  and  I  have  no  right  in  fu- 
ture, to  mention  his  behaviour  at  the  card-table,  al- 
though 1  never  will  pay  him,  nor  ever  keep  his  com- 
pany.'* 

In  1747,  Mr.  Clive  obtained  an  ensign's  commis- 
sion, and  in  1748  greatly  distinguished  himself  at 
the  siege  of  Pondicherry.  ,  Jn  the  ensuing  spring,  the 
news  of  a  cessation  of  hostilities  between  Great-Bri- 
tain and  France  arrived  :  but,  though  the  subjects  of 
the  two  states  had  no  longer  a  national  pretence  for 
war,  yet  circumstances  immediately  occurred,  to  ren- 
der the  duration  of  peace  very  short  in  the  eastern 
part  of  the  world.  At  this  time,  the  dominions  of  a 
neighbouring  chief,  the  rajah  of  Tanjore  were  claim- 
ed by  his  brother,  a  fugitive,  who  declared,  that  the 
present  rajah  was  an  usurper ;  and,  that  he  himself, 
though  deposed  by  his  subjects,  was  their  rightful 
Lord.  Whether  the  English  were,  upon  this  occa- 
sion, actuated  by  a  regard  to  justice,  or,  which  is  as 
probable,  by  a  wiiih  to  promote  their  own  aggran- 
dizement, it  would  be  foreign  to  our  purpose  to  en- 
quire ;  they,  however,  espoused  the  cause  of  the  fu- 
gitive prince.  Near  the  English  settlement,  was  a 
fort  of  the  rajah  called  Devi  Cotah,  with  the  attack 
of  which,  they  resolved  to  begin  their  operations. 
When  they  appeared  before  it,  they  found  the  ap- 
proaches  difficult,  and  the  ramparts  covered  with  in- 
numerable troops,  whose  military  prowess,  experi- 
ence had  not  yet  taught  them  to  despise.  Clive  alone 
insisted  tl^at  the  enterprise,  though  hazardous^  was 
far  from  being  desperate  j  for  by  advancing  the  can- 


52  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL  " 

Bon  in  the  night,  the  gates  might  be  destroyed,  and 
the  town  taken  by  a  storm.  The  commanding  office? 
refused  to  listen  to  his  advice,  as  too  bold  to  be  fol- 
lowed, and  continued  a  fruitless  cannonade,  till  hav- 
ing exhausted  his  ammunition,  he  was  compelled  to 
]ead  back  his  troops  with  disgrace  to  Fort  St.  David. 
Their  shame  at  this  discomfiture,  its  ill  effects  upon 
their  trade,  and  above  all,  the  triumphs  of  the  French, 
determined  the  English  to  make  a  second  attempt  for 
the  reduction  of  Devi  Cotah.  The  detachment  con- 
sisted of  800  British  troops,  and  1 500  Seapoys,  un- 
der the  command  of  Major  Lawrence,  whose  great 
abilities,  though,  at  that  time,  little  known,  soon  after- 
wards raised  him  to  the  highest  rank  in  the  service. 
A  breach  being  made  in  the  walls,  Clive,.  then  a 
lieutenant,  solicited  the  command  of  the  forlorn  hope, 
and  Major  Lawrence  having  given  his  consent,  a 
platoon  of  34  British,  supported  by  700  Sepoys  was 
ordered  to  storm  the  breach.  Clive  and  the  English 
led  the  way.  Between  the  camp  and  the  fort  was  a 
Tivulet,  in  passing  which,  four  of  the  English  fell  by 
the  enemy's  fire.  The  frightened  Sepoys  halted  as 
soon  as  they  had  passed  the  brook,  but  the  English 
pushed  resolutely  on  ;  and  being  now  close  upon  the 
breach,  had  levelled  their  musquets,  when  a  party  of 
horse,  whom  a  tower  of  the  fort  had  hitherto  con- 
cealed, rushed  upon  their  rear,  and  cut  down  twenty, 
six  of  their  number.  One  of  the  horsemen  aimed  a 
stroke  at  Clive,  but  having  escaped  it,  he  ran  towards 
the  rivulet,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  join  the  Se- 
poys. Of  the  whole  four  and  thirty,  himself  and 
three  others,  were  all,  who  were  left  alive.  Major 
Lawrence  seeing  the  disaster,  commanded  all  the 
Europeans  to  advance.  Clive  still  marched  in  the 
first  division.  The  horse  renewed  their  attack,  but 
were  repulsed  with  such  slaughter,  that  the  garrison, 
dismayed  at  the  sight,  gave  way  as  the  English  ap- 
proached the  breach,  and,  abandoned  the  town  to 
the  victors.     Alarmed  at  this  unexpected   success. 


DICTIONARY.  53 

the  rajah  sent  overtures  of  peace,  to  which,  on  condi- 
tion that  a  settjement  should   be  made  on  his  rival 
and  the  fort  of  Devi  Cotah,  with   the  adjoining  dis- 
trict be  ceded  to  the  company,  the  Enghsh  acceded. 

After  the  war,  Clive  returned  to  the  civil  estabiish- 
ment  -,  his  income  was,  however,  considerably  aug- 
mented by  his  appointment  to  the  office  of  commis- 
sary to  the  British  forces.  He  had  not  long  been 
settled  at  Madras,  when  a  fever  of  the  nervous  kind 
destroyed  his  constitution,  and  operated  so  banefully 
on  his  spirits,  that  the  constant  presence  of  an  atten- 
dant became  absolutely  requisite,  to  prevent  him 
from  doing  injury  to  himself.  As  the  disease  abated, 
his  former  strength  was  in  some  degree  renewed  ; 
but  his  frame  had  received  so  rude  a  shock,  that,  dur- 
ing the  remainder  of  his  life,  excepting  when  his 
mind  was  ardently  engaged,  the  oppression  on  his 
spirits  frequently  returned. 

On  account  of  the  distraction  of  affairs  in  1751, 
Clive  resumed  his  military  character.  Being  then  at 
St.  David,  and  having  obtained  a  captain's  commis- 
sion, he  undertook  to  conduct  a  detachment  sent  to 
the  relief  of  a  fort  of  the  nabob,  which  at  that  time 
was  closely  besieged  by  a  neighbouring  chieftain,  the 
ally  of  his  rival  Chundasaheb.  Led  on  by  Clive,  the 
English  broke  through  the  chieftain's  troops  in  the 
night,  and  entered  the  fort  amidst  the  applause  of 
the  garrison.  No  sooner  had  he  seen  them  safe,  than 
he  attempted  to  return,  accompanied  by  his  servants, 
and  a  guard  of  twelve  Sepoys  :,  but  they  had  not 
proceeded  fiir,  when  they  found  themselves  surround- 
ed by  the  chieftain's  troops.  Captain  Clive  resolved 
to  force  his  way,  and  the  attempt  succeeded ;  but 
seven  of  the  Sepoys  and  several  of  his  servants,  fell 
by  the  sabres  of  the  enemy. 

Having  displayed  great'  skill  and  courage,  Clive, 
by  stratagem  and  a  timely  reinforcement,  defeated 
three  hundred  Europeans,  two  thousand  five  hundred 
Sepoys,  and  two  thousand  horse,  which  Dupleix  and 


64  NEW  BIOGKAPHICAI/ 

Chundasaheb  had  sent  against  him ;  and  before  the 
end  of  the  campaign,  he  had  made  himself  master 
of  several  forts  belonging  to  the  enemy. 

Early  in  the  next  year,  1752,  Captain  Clive  took 
the  field  with  three  hundred  and  eighty  Europeans, 
two  thousand  Sepoys  and  two  thousand  five  hundred 
horse,  and  finding  that  the  enemy  intended  to  attack 
Arcot,  hastened  to  its  relief.  The  enemy,  who  had 
intelligence  of  his  motions,  had  formed  a  plan  to  sur- 
prize him  in  his  march  ;  and  having  with  them  a  nu- 
merous party  of  French,  had  taken  their  measures 
with  so  much  judgment,  that,  the  fire  of  nine  pieces 
of  cannon  was  poured  upon  his  men,  from  a  small 
distance,  before  he  suspected  an  attack.  The  ex- 
tremity of  danger  increased  the  activity,  but  never 
disturbed  the  composure  of  his  mind.  The  battle 
hung  in  suspence  till  evening,  when  a  detachment  of 
his  troops  attacked  the  enemy  in  the  rear,  and  having 
made  themselves  masters  of  their  cannon,  a  general 
defeat  ensued. 

It  would  far  exceed  our  limits,  to  do  justice  to  the 
many  and  important  military  exploits  of  this  officer, 
whose  actions  alone  would  fill  volumes.  He  was,  in- 
deed, acknowledged,  as  the  man,  who  first  raised  his 
countrymen's  reputation  in  the  East,  so  that  when  he 
came  over  to  England,  in  1753,  he  was  presented  by 
the  court  of  Directors,  with  a  rich  sword  set  with 
diamonds,  as  an  acknowledgement  of  past,  and  an 
incitement  to  future  services.  He  returned  to  India 
in  1755,  as  governor  of  Fort  St.  David,  with  the  rank 
of  lieutenant-colonel ;  when,  as  commander  of  the 
Company's  troops,  he,  in  conjunction  with  Admiral 
Watson,  subdued  Angria  the  pirate,  and  became 
master  of  Geria,  his  capital,,  with  all  his  accumulated 
treasure. 

Soon  after  this,  they  sailed  to  Bengal,  where  they 
took  fort  William  in  January  1757  5  and  Colonel 
Clive,  defeating  the  Soubah's  army  soon  after,  accele- 
rated a  peace.     It  was  however  given  out  by  the 


DICTIONARY*  55 

,^glish,  that  on  account  of  the  perfidious  character 
of  that  prince,  no  peace  could  be  permanent  with 
him,  unless  he  were  deprived  of  the  means  to  injure. 
It,  was,  therefore,  resolved  to  dethrone  him,  and 
to  substitute  another  in  his  stead.  This  idea,  which 
was  first  started  by  Colonel  Clive,  was  readily  adopt- 
ed, and  hostilities  commenced,  which  terminated  in 
the  soubah's  ruin,  he  being  totally  defeated  by  Colo- 
nel Clive  at  the  battle  of  Plassey  1757.  Next  day, 
the  conqueror  entered  Muxadabad,  in  triumph,  and 
placed  JafBer  Ally  Cawn,  one  of  the  principal  gene- 
rals, on  the  throne ;  the  deposed  soubah  was  soon 
after  taken,  and  put  to  death  by  JafRer^s  son.  Ad- 
miral Watson  died  at  Calcutta,  but  Colonel  Clive 
commanded  in  Bengal,  the  two  succeeding  years ; 
he  was  honoured  by  the  Mogul,  with  the  dignity  of  an 
Ormah  of  the  empire,  and  was  rewarded  by  the  new 
Soubah,  with  a  grant  of  land,  producing  about 
120,000  dollars  annually. 

In  1760,  he  returned  to  England,  where  he  receiv- 
ed the  unanimous  thanks  of  the  Company,  was  elect- 
ed member  of  parliament,  and  raised  to  an  Irish  peer- 
age, by  the  title  of  Lord  Clive,  baron  of  Plassey. 
In  17G4,  fresh  disturbances  occurring  in  Bengal,  he 
was  sent  as  the  only  man  qualified  to  settle  them, 
being  again  appointed  to  that  presidency,  and  honour- 
ed with  the  order  of  the  bath,  and  the  rank  of  major- 
general.  When  he  arrived  in  India,  he  exceeded  the 
most  sanguine  expectations,  in  restoring  tranquillity 
to  the  province,  without  striking  a  blow,  and  fixed 
the  highest  ideas  of  the  British  power,  in  the  minds 
of  the  natives.  He  returned  to  England  in  1767, 
and,  on  the  21st  February  1773,  when  a  motion  was 
made,  in  the  British  parliament,  to  resolve,  "  that  in 
the  acquisition  of  his  wealth.  Lord  Clive  had  exceed- 
ed the  powers  entrusted  to  him  ;"  he  delivered,  in  a 
long  speech,  a  justification  of  his  conduct.  The 
house  soon  after  rejected  the  motion  and  resolved. 


56  NEW  BlOGRAPHICAt 

"  that.  Lord  Clive  had  rendered  great  and  meritoriav.^. 
services  to  his  country." 

Soon  after  this  period,  however,  he  was  again  af- 
fected with  that  most  dreadful  of  all  disorders  insa- 
nity,  and  watching  the  opportunity  of  his  keeper's 
absence,  put  an  end  to  his  own  life,  Nov.  22d  1774, 
affording  a  most  striking  instance  of  the  inefficiency 
of  wealth  or  external  honours  to  confer  happiness. 

Whoever  contemplates  the  forlorn  situation  of  the 
British  East  India  Company,  at  the  time,  when  Lord 
Clive  first  arrived  at  Calcutta,  in  the  year  1756,  and 
then  considers  the  degree  of  opulence  and  power 
they  possessed,  when  he  finally  left  that  place  in  the 
year  1767,  will  be  convinced,  that  the  history  of  the 
world  has  seldom  afforded  an  instance  of  so  rapid  and 
improbable  a  change.  At  the  first  period,  they  were 
merely  an  association  of  merchants  struggling  for  ex- 
istence ;  at  the  last  period,  they  were  become  power- 
ful princes,  possessed  of  vast  revenues,  and  ruling 
over  fifteen  millions  of  people.  In  short,  he  was  alike 
great  in  the  cabinet  and  the  field. 

But  however  brilliant  his  military  career,  this  noble- 
man has,  by  no  means,  a  just  claim  to  indiscriminate 
and  lavish  panegyric  ;  for,  notwithstanding  that  he 
was  an  affectionate  son,  a  good  father,  and  an  excel- 
lent friend,  his  name  illustrious,  as  it  undoubtedly 
is,  will  be  handed  down  to  posterity  with  a  long  list 
of  Indian  delinquents,  who,  dazzled  by  gold,  and 
commanding  that  powerful  engine,  military  power, 
have  converted  public  authority  to  private  emolu- 
ment, and  levied  immense  sums,  on  the  hopes  or  fears 
of  the  natives,  under  the  specious  name  of  voluntary 
presents. 

We  are  well  aware,  that  it  is  too  much  the  fashion 
of  the  present  day,  to  place  great  public  services  as  a 
set-off  against  offence,  but  such  a  conduct  is  neither 
calculated  to  produce  good  effects  on  posterity,  nor  is 
it  compatible  with  the  impartiality  of  the  biogra- 
pher 3  for  hovv^ever  delightful,  it  may  be  to  hand  down 


15ICTI0NARY,  5t 

to  posterity,  the  names  of  good  men,  as  ornaments 
of  human  nature,  and  public  blessings,  yet  there 
should  be  some  provision  for  notoriously  bad  men, 
the  plagues  and  curses  of  their  species.  This,  though 
a  less  pleasing,  is  a  necessary  task,  as  it  may  be  some 
restraint  on  such  men,  in  the  fullness  of  power,  to  re- 
collect, that  a  time  would  come,  when  their  oppres- 
sions and  enormities  might  be  delineated  without  fear, 
and  rendered  objects  of  everlasting  detestation.  We 
shall,  therefore,  without  farther  apology,  mention 
some  of  the  grievous  charges,  which  we  think  were 
fully  substantiated  against  Clive.  First,  by  fraud  or 
by  violence,  and,  in  consequence  of  the  deposition  of 
Rajah  Dowlah,  he  became  possessed  of  more  than 
20  lacks  of  rupees,  nearly  amounting  to  1,110,000 
dollars.  Secondly,  by  a  monopoly  of  salt,  tobacco 
and  betel  nut,  equally  unwarrantable  and  pernicious, 
he  secured  a  prodigious  profit  on  these  necessaries 
oi  life,  to  the  extreme  distress  of  many  thousand 
miserable  natives.  Thirdly,  by  menaces  and  violence, 
he  compelled  Admiral  Watson,  to  sign  an  iniquitous 
treaty,  for  which  the  Admiral  never  forgave  the  gene- 
ral, or  himself. 

These  charges  it  is  true.  Lord  Clive  attempted  to 
answer  ;  but  a  perusal  of  his  defence,  has  only  served 
to  establish  a  conviction  of  his  guilt.  How  then,  it 
may  be  asked,  did  he,  if  guilty,  get  clear  of  the  attack 
that  was  made  against  him,  in  the  British  parliament  ? 
The  answer  is  easy.  The  opinion,  which,  Cicera 
says,  was  entertained  of  the  ancient  Romans,  may 
with  equal  propriety,  be  now  applied  to  Great-Bri- 
tain and  other  modern  nations.  "  An  opinion"  says 
he,  "  highly  injurious  to  ourselves  and  the  common- 
wealth has  been  long  established,  not  only  at  Rome, 
but  also  amongst  foreign  nations,  that  no  man  pos- 
sessed of  immense  wealth,  can  be  condemned,  even 
though  his  guilt  be  evidently  apparent," 

Vol.  II,  No.  9.  H 


tb  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

CLOOTZ,  (Jean  Baptiste)  wasbornat  Cleves 
in  Prussia,  but  with  respect  to  the  precise  time  of  his 
birth  we  are  uncertain.  He  was  of  noble  extraction, 
and  is  said  to  have  had  a  considerable  estate.  After 
having  travelled  through  many  countries  of  Europe, 
he  at  last  directed  his  way  to  Paris,  where,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  French  Revolution,  he  pub- 
lished a  number  of  letters  in  the  News-papers,  under 
the  signature  of  Clootz  the  Prussian.  He  afterwards 
took  the  name  of  Anacharsis,  from  the  Scythian  phi- 
losopher, though  he  had  been  christened  Jean  Bap- 
tiste;  and  lastly,  superadded  the  title  of  Orator  of 
the  human  race. 

Under  this  ludicrous  title,  and  by  the  recomniend- 
ations  of  some  writings,  v^^hich  might  have  passed 
for  the  effusions  of  a  bedlamite,  he  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  Parisians.  He,  at  the  same  time,  be- 
gan to  be  a  noisy  member  of  the  Jacobin  club,  and 
was  said  to  be  the  agent  of  similar  societies  forming 
in  Prussia. 

Clootz  still  continued  to  write,  to  make  speeches  at 
the  Jacobins,  and  to  appear  occasionally  in  the  assem* 
bly.  He  was  amongst  the  first  republicans,  and  whea 
the  declaration  of  war  against  the  emperor  was  in  agi- 
tation, sent  a  letter  to  the  legislative  assembly,  re- 
questing leave  to  present  his  ideas  at  the  bar,  and  as- 
suring them,  that  the  permission  would  be  no  loss  to 
the  assembly  or  to  the  world  at  large.  This  letter,  the 
brevity  of  which  was  the  only  compensation  for  its 
absurdity,  was  dated  "  The  capital  of  the  globe,  in 
the  third  year  of  liberty"  and  signed  "  Anacharsis 
Clootz,  orator  of  the  human  race."  He  attended 
the  assembly  the  next  day,  and  made  a  speech  of  two 
hours,  which  was  not  inferior,  in  absurdity,  to  his  let- 
ter, and  contained,  amongst  other  matter,  many  se- 
vere reflections  against  the  different  princes  of  Europe. 
It  was,  however,  highly  applauded  by  the  assembly 
and  the  galleries,  and  graciously  answered  by  the 
President. 


DICTIONARY.  $9 

On  the  2Ist  April,  1792,  war  being  declared,  and 
the  Jacobin  ministry  appointed,  he  again  appeared 
at  the  bar,  and  delivered  another  harangue,  in  which 
was  the  following  observations  :  "  God  is  powerful 
and  asserts  his  will — We  are  powerful  and  assert  ours 
— Freemen  are  the  Gods  of  the  earth.'"  At  the  end 
of  his  speech,  he  offered  a  copy  of  his  book  called 
"  La  republique  universelle"  and  twelve  thousand  li- 
vres  (2331  dollars.)  This  patriotic  donation  procur- 
ed him  the  honours  ot  the  sitting  and  mention  in  the 
bulletin. 

In  this  book,  he  appears  a  great  advocate  for  one 
common  language,  the  French,  and  seems  so  well 
convinced  of  the  necessity  of  one  universal  govern- 
ment, that  he  deems  two  suns  above  one  horison,  or 
a  pair  of  Gods  in  heaven  not  more  absurd,  than  two 
rations  upon  earth  I  He  accordingly  proposed,  that 
so  soon  as  France  should  have  conquered  all  her  ene- 
mies, every  nation  should  send  its  representatives  to 
Paris;  he  had  even  allotted  the  different  countries 
into  departments.  England  was  to  be  called  Departe^ 
ment  de  la  Tamise. 

Soon  after  the  overthrow  of  royalty,  August  10th 
1793,  he  once  more  made  his  appearance  at  the  bar 
of  the  assembly,  and  proposed  to  raise  a  legion  of 
Prussians  to  march  to  the  frontiers,  which  should  be 
called  Legion  Vandale :  his  military  project  was  ac- 
cordingly decreed.  His  popularity  indicated  him  as  a 
very  proper  person  to  receive  the  honour  of  naturaliz- 
ation, which  was  accordingly  conferred  on  him  to- 
gether with  Paine,  M*Intosh  and  others. 

It  is  not  certain,  whether  he  personally  took  any 
share  in  the  massacre  of  the  prisoners  w^hichtook  place 
the  2d  and  3d  of  September,  but  he  was  a  constant 
approver  and  defender  of  them.  About  this  time  he 
was  elected  a  m.ember  of  the  convention  for  the  de- 
partement  de  I'Oise,  andjjWas  a  strenuous  mountaineer. 
On  the  king's  trial  he  voted  against  the  appeal  to  the 


CiO  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

people  and  for  death,  accompanying  each  decision 
with  the  most  acrimonious  reflections. 

In  his  speeches  to  the  Legislative  Assembly,  he  at 
first  mentioned  the  name  of  the  Supreme  Being  with 
levity,  but  afterwards  professed  himself  an  avowed 
atheist,  and  carried  his  profaneness  to  such  an  excess, 
that  he  was  called  the  personal  enemy  of  Jesus  Christ, 
He  wrote  a  book  proving  the  nothingness  of  religion, 
which  he  likewise  presented  to  the  convention  on 
the  1st.  Nov.  1793  :  but  the  reign  of  atheism  was  of 
short  duration,  for  on  the  30th  Dec.  following,  Ro- 
bespierre obtained  a  decree  of  the  convention,  by 
which  Clootz  was  deprived  of  his  seat,  seals  put  on 
his  papers  and  himself  confined  in  the  Luxembourgh. 
Here  he  seemed  to  harden  in  atheism  :  he  even  re- 
proached Paine,  who  had  just  published  his  "Age 
of  Reason,"  and  was  then  his  fellow-prisoner,  for  re- 
taining too  many  political  and  religious  prejudices. 
On  the  31st  of  March,  1794,  he  was  brought  before 
the  revolutionary  tribunal,  together  with  Herbert  and 
his  party.  He  appealed  to  the  human  race,  of  whom 
Jie  was  the  orator,  but  none  of  his  clients  interfered, 
and  he  was  condemned  to  death.  The  night,  which 
preceded  their  execution,  was  passed  by  the  rest  of 
the  condemned  in  complaints  and  mutual  accusations^ 
till  Clootz  finished  the  dispute,  by  repeating  with  a 
loud  voice,  a  celebrated  French  apologue  well  known 
by  the  English  translation  : 

"  I  dreamt,  that  gathered  to  my  fellow  Clay, 
*'  Close  to  a  common  beggar's  side  I  lay,  &c.'* 

This  quotation  convincing  the  disputants,  that  all 
their  differences  would  soon  be  compromised  by  one 
common  lot,  brought  them  to  a  more  pacific  disposi- 
tion. He  then  exhorted  them  to  die  with  resolution, 
and  endeavoured  to  confirm  their  atheistical  princi- 
ples, and  to  stifle  the  reproaches  of  conscience.  His 
efforts  failed  with  most  of  his  friends,  who  betrayed 


DICTIONARY.  61 

the  most  dreadful  alarms ;  but  Clootz  hliTiSelf  died 
with  the  most  undaunted  firmness  and  resolution. 
He  insisted  on  being  the  last  prisoner  executed  that 
day,  in  order  to  have  an  opportunity  of  instilling 
principles  in  the  mind  of  each,  by  a  short  harangue, 
which  he  pronounced,  as  the  fatal  guilotine  was  about 


to  descend  on  his  neck, 


COCKBURN,  (John)  Esq.  of  Ormiston,  the  fa- 
ther of  Scottish  Husbandry,  inherited,  from  his  an- 
cestors, a  moderate  estate,  but  a  large  porlion  of  gen- 
uine patriotism,  and  true  love  of  his  country.  In  the 
vavicus  struggles,  which  Scotland  had  been  making 
for  near  two  centuries,  to  shake  off  the  fetters  of  ty- 
ranny, the  family  of  Ormiston  acted  a  conspicuous 
part.  They  were  steady  friends  to  the  protestant  re- 
formers, active  supporters  of  the  revolution,  and 
warmly  attached  to  the  succession  of  the  house  of 
Hanover.  In  a  word,  they  were  uniformly  favpurers 
of  constitutional  liberty,  and  enemies  to  despotism  in 
whatever  form  it  appeared. 

Mr.  Cockburn  entered  upon  the  political  stage  at 
an  early  period,  and,  during  his  father's  life-time,  was 
a  member  of  the  Scottish  parliament,  at  the  memora- 
ble a^ra  of  the  union  of  the  two  kingdoms,  in  the 
year  1707.  He  was  successively  elected  to  represent 
East  Lothian  his  native  county,  in  the  parliament  of 
Great-Britain  from  1707  to  1741,  and,  during  that 
time  filled  several  public  stations.  But  it  is  not  his 
political  life  we  mean  to  detail  :  for  however  brilliant 
it  might  be,  and  however  useful  he  might  prove  to 
his  country  in  his  public  capacities,  these  qualities 
w^re  ecclipsed  by  the  numerous  and  successful  at- 
tempts he  made  to  introduce  beneficial  practices,  and 
to  promote  the  trade  and  agriculture  of  his  native 
country. 

Mr.  Cockburn  succeeded  to  the  estate  of  Ormis- 
ton, about  the  year  1714.     At  that  time,  the  agricul- 


62  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ture  of  Scotland  was  reduced  to  the  most  languishing 
state,  the  tenantry  were  sunk  into  indigence,  and  so 
far  from  being  able  to  make  the  smallest  improve- 
ment, they  were  mostly  incapable  of  stocking  the 
very  grounds  they  occupied.  Fletcher  of  Salton,  who 
published  a  treatise  upon  the  state  of  affairs  in  Scot- 
land, in  1698,  describes  their  situation  as  abject  and 
miserable  ;  and  Lord  Kaimes,  in  still  stronger  lan- 
guage, declares,  that,  before  the  union,  they  were  so 
benumbed  with  oppression,  that  the  most  able  instruc- 
tor in  husbandry  would  have  made  nothing  of  them. 
This  miserable  situation  was  occasioned  by  a  great 
revolution,  which  had  taken  place  after  the  accession 
of  James  I.  to  the  throne  of  England,  in  the  capital 
employed  in  cultivating  the  ground.  Owing  to  a 
considerable  number  of  proprietors  constantly  residing 
in  that  kingdom,  the  rents  were  raised  ;  and  while 
the  avarice  of  the  landlord  increased,  the  trade  and 
commerce  of  the  country  declined.  This,  with  a 
succession  of  bad  seasons,  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  completely  impoverished  the  ten- 
antry, and  consequently  reduced  the  husbandry  of 
Scotland  to  the  lowest  ebb. 

Mr.  Cockburn  viewed  the  situation  of  the  country 
with  concern,  and  resolved  to  endeavour  not  only  to 
rouse  up  a  spirit  amongst  the  landed  proprietors  for 
promoting  improvements,  but,  also  by  every  means 
of  encouragement  to  animate  the  tenantry  to  carry  on 
their  operations  with  energy  and  vigour.  Perfectly 
sensible,  that  this  could  only  be  accomplished  by  giv- 
ing the  husbandman  a  security  for  reaping  the  fruits 
of  his  improvements,  he  determined  to  sacrifice  pri- 
vate interest,  and  to  give  leases,  that  would  tempt 
the  most  indolent  to  exercise  superior  management. 
His  coaduct  was  imitated  by  many  other  proprietors, 
although  not  to  the  same  extent,  and  the  consequen- 
ces were  soon  evident.  Open  fields  were  inclosed, 
wet  lands  were  drained,  new  methods  of  cropping 
were  introduced,  and  a  superior  cultivation  was  prac- 


DICTIONARY.  63 

tiscd.  The  effects  of  these  improvements  restored 
the  capital  formerly  lost  by  the  husbandman,  and 
changed  the  face  of  the  country  from  being  barren 
and  waste,  to  the  most  fruitful  appearance. 

In  the  year  1716,  Mr.  Cockburn  commenced  his 
operations  upon  the  infields  of  Ormiston,  which  he 
inclosed  with  ditches  and  hedges,  interspersed  with 
trees  of  the  most  useful  kinds,  and  a  variety  of  beau- 
tiful flowering  shrubs,  all  in  the  English  style,  which 
remain  to  this  day  as  a  proof  of  his  genius  and  taste. 
Having  thus  set  an  example  to  his  tenants,  he,  in  the 
year  J  7 18,  re-let  a  farm  to  one  of  the  most  ancient  of 
them,  and  gave  a  lease  renewable,  every  nineteen 
years,  upon  very  moderate  terms,  under  the  express 
conditions,  that  the  tenant  should  inclose  the  whole, 
at  his  own  expence  ;  which  was  immediately  carried 
into  execution,  and  the  ridges  levelled  and  straighten- 
ed, in  conformity  to  the  different  inclosures.  Soon 
after,  similar  leases  were  granted  to  his  other  tenants, 
and  the  whole  estate  was,  in  a  few  years,  completely 
inclosed. 

But  the  enterprising  spirit  of  this  truly  great  man 
did  not  rest  here.  In  giving  long  leases,  he  enabled 
his  tenants  to  make  improvements  j  but  still  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  teach  them  how  these  improvements  should 
be  conducted.  For  this  purpose,  he  brought  down 
skilful  people  from  England,  who  introduced  the  cul- 
ture of  turnips,  rape  and  red  clover ;  and,  at  the 
same  time  he  sent  up  the  sons  of  his  tenants  to  study 
agriculture,  in  the  best  cultivated  counties  of  that 
kingdom  ;  experiments  were,  likewise  made  of  the 
effects  of  enriching  land,  by  flooding,  it  with  wa- 
ter, a  practice  at  present  much  extolled.  Turnips 
were  sown  upon  his  estate,  so  early  as  the  year  1725, 
and  he  brought  the  culture  of  this  valuable  root  to 
such  perfection,  that  in  1735,  a  turnip  of  his  raising, 
weighing  34  3-4  lb.  was  carried  to  Edinburgh  and 
exhibited  as  a  show. 

A  society  for  promoting  improvements  in  agricul- 


64f  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

tnre  was  also  established  at  Ormiston,  under  the  pat- 
ronage of  Mr.  Cockburn,  of  Vv^hich  many  patriotic 
noblemen  and  gentlemen  were  members  ;  and  not 
only  the  tenants  of  the  estate,  but  also  those  residing 
in  the  neighbourhood  were  invited  to  attend.  This 
salutary  institution  was  attended  with  the  happiest 
effects,  and  young  men,  from  all  quarters,  flocked  to 
Ormiston,  to  learn  new  modes  of  cultivation. 

Nor  v/ere  Mr.  Cockburn's  exertions  confined  to 
agriculture  alone.  His  active  mind  embraced  every 
object  of  industry,  which  promised  to  be  of  advan- 
tage  to  his  country.  When  efforts  were  making  to 
introduce  the  linen  manufacture,  he  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity of  lending  his  aid,  by  establishing  a  colony  of 
Irishmen  upon  his  estate,  for  carrying  on  that  manu- 
facture ;  and  erected  a  bleachfield,  the  second  in  Scot- 
land, for  whitening  fine  linens,  which  were  formerly 
sent  to  Hserlem,  in  Holland,  To  these  Irishmen, 
the  country  were  indebted  for  the  importation  of  that 
valuable  root  the  potatoe,  which  was  raised  in  the 
fields  of  Ormiston  so  early  as  1734  ;  and  being  agree- 
able to  every  taste,  rapidly  spread  over  all  Scotland, 
and  now  forms  so  considerable  a  part  of  the  subsist- 
ence of  the  people. 

The  numerous  attempts  of  this  worthy  man  to  in- 
crease the  prosperity  of.  his  country,  display  a  mind 
fired  with  real  and  genuine  patriotism  ;  all  his  cotem- 
pories  agree,  that  no  individual  carried  his  exertions 
to  a  greater  length,  and  the  early  superiority  of  the 
East  Lothian  husbandry,  over  the  rest  of  Scotland, 
is  attributed  by  our  agricultural  writers  to  the  long 
leases  he  granted. 

We  are  not  informed  of  the  precise  time  of  this 
worthy  man's  death  ;  but  when  the  whole  of  his  ex- 
ertions to  promote  improvements,  and  introduce  a 
spirit  of  industry  are  considered,  we  are  warranted 
to  pronounce  him  "  The  father  of  Scottish  husbandry, 
an  ornament  to  his  country ,  and  an  honour  to  the  couU" 
iy  of  East  Lothian ^  wiiich  gave  him  birth '\ 


DICTIONARY^  65 

COKE  or  COOKE,  (Sir  Edward)  Lord  chief 
justice  of  England,  and  one  of  the  most  eminent  law- 
yers that  kingdom  has  produced,  was  descended  from 
a  respectable  family  in  Norfolk,  and  born  in  1549. 
After  he  had  studied  four  years  at  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  he  was  entered  a  student  of  the  Inner 
Temple,  London.  We  are  told,  that  the  first  proof 
he  gave  of  the  quickness  of  his  penetration,  and  the 
solidity  of  his  judgment,  was  his  stating  the  cook's 
case  of  the  Temple,  which  it  seems  had  puzzled  the 
whole  house,  so  clearly  and  exactly,  that  it  was  ta- 
ken, notice  of,  and  admired  by  the  bench. 

About  the  year  1578,  he  was  appointed  reader  of 
Lyon's  Inn,  when  his  learned  lectures  were  much  re- 
sorted to.  His  reputation  increased  so  fast,  and  with 
it  his  practice,  that  when  he  had  been  at  the  bar  but 
a  few  years,  he  aspired  to  a  young  lady  of  one  of  the 
first  families  in  the  kingdom,  possessed  of  a  fortune  of 
133,200  dollars,  whom  he,  in  a  short  time,  married. 

After  this  marriage,  preferments  flowed  upon  him. 
The  cities  of  Norwich  and  Coventry  chose  him  for 
their  recorder  ;  the  county  of  Norfolk  for  one  of  their 
representatives  in  parliament:  and  the  house  of  com- 
mons for  their  speaker,  in  the  35th  year  of  Queen 
Elizabeth.  The  Queen  appointed  him  solicitor  gene- 
ral in  1592,  and  attorney  general  in  the  year  follow- 
ing. In  1603,  he  was  knighted  by  King  James  I. 
and  the  same  year  managed  the  trial  of  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  at  Winchester,  whither  the  term  was  ad- 
journed on  account  of  the  plague  being  at  London. 
He  lessened  himself  greatly,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
world,  by  his  treatment  x}(  that  unfortunate  gentle- 
man, for  he  exerted  a  fury  and  scurility  of  language 
against  him  hardly  to  be  paralleled. 

In  June  1606,  he  was  appointed  lord  chief  justice 
of  the  common  pleas;  and  in  1613,  lord  chief  justice 
of  the  king's  bench,  and  one  of  the  privy  council. 
In  1615,  he  was  very  vigorous  in  the  discovery  and 
prosecution  of  the  persgns  employed  in  poisoning  Sir 

Vol.  II,  No,  10.  I 


6G'  NEW  BIOGRAPHICA.L 

Thomas  Overbury  in  the  tower,  in  1612.  In  this 
affair,  he  acted  with  great  vigour,  and,  as  some  thinks 
in  a  manner  highly  to  be  commended  ;  yet  his  ene- 
mies, who  were  numerous,  and  had  formed  a  design 
to  humble  his  pride  and  insolence,  took  occasion  to 
represent  him  in  a  bad  light,  both  to  prince  and  peo- 
ple. Many  circumstances  concurred,  at  this  time, 
to  hasten  his  fall.  He  had  a  contest  with  the  lord 
chancellor  Egerton,  in  which  it  was  universally  al- 
lowed, he  was  much  to  blame,  and  had  also  given 
otTence  to  the  king,  by  calling  his  prerogative  in  ques- 
tion. In  fine,  his  overbearing  disposition  had  render- 
ed him  generally  obnoxious  to  those  in  power,  and  it 
was  deemed  expedient  to  curb  his  ambition.  He 
was,  therefore,  brought  before  the  council,  at  White- 
hall, June  1616,  where  various  charges  being  exhi- 
bited against  hin^,  he  presented  his  defence.  The 
business  was  thoroughly  discussed  by  the  council, 
and  their  opinion  reported  to  his  majesty,  who,  though 
he  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  respect  to  any  of 
the  heads,  yet,  in  regard  to  the  former  services  of  his 
lordship,  only  decreed — 1st.  That  he  should  be  se- 
questered from  the  council  table — 2d.  That  he  should 
forbear  to  ride  his  summer  circuit  as  justice  of  the 
assize — 3d.  That  during  this  vacation,  he  should  take 
into  consideration  and  review  his  books  of  reports, 
wherein,  as  his  majesty  was  informed,,  there  were  ma- 
ny opinions  highly  extravagant^,  set  dov^n  as  positive 
and  good  law  ;  and  that  after  he  had  made  such  cor- 
rections, as  to  him  should  seem  proper,  he  should  af- 
terwards privately  submit  them  to  his  majesty  for  his- 
decision.  To  this  the  lord  chief  justice  made  an- 
swer, that  he  did,  in  all  humility,  prostrate  himself 
to  his  majesty's  gt)od  pleasure,  acknowledged  the 
decree  to  be  founded  more  on  clemency  than  strict 
justice,  thanked  their  lordships  for  their  goodness  to- 
w^ards  him,  and  hoped,  that  his  future  behaviour 
would  be  such  as  to  deserve  their  favour.  From- 
^hich  answer,  we  may  learn^  that  Sir  Edward^,  like 


DICTIONARY.  67 

all  others,  who  are  insolent  and  overbearing  in  pros- 
perity, was  dejected  and  fawning  in  adversity  ;  thq 
same  mean  and  abject  spirit  influencing  their  behavi- 
our in  both  conditions.  In  October  following,  he  was 
called  before  the  chancellor  and  forbid  Westminster- 
hall,  and,  in  November,  was  removed  from  the  of- 
fice of  lord  chief  justice. 

Low  as  Sir  Edward  had  now  fallen,  he  had  the 
address,  to  get  himself  soon  after  restored  to  favour  ; 
which,  however,  he,  upon  this  occasion,  did  not  long 
retain:  for  in  the  year  1621,  he  vigorously  maintain- 
ed, in  the  house  of  commons,  that  no  proclamation 
was  of  any  force,  against  the  tenour  of  acts  of  par- 
liament; and  also,  in  opposition  to  the  v/ell  known 
wishes  of  the  court,  strenuously  contended  for  the 
liberty  of  speech,  and  other  important  privile- 
ges of  the  people.  On  the  27th  December,  Sir 
Edward  was  committed  to  the  tower,  and  his  pa- 
pers seized  :  and  on  the  6th  January  1622,  he  was 
charged  before  the  council  with  having  concealed 
some  true  examinations  in  the  great  cause  of  the  Earl 
of  Somerset,  and  obtruding  false  ones.  He  was, 
however,  soon  after  released,  but  not  without  receiv- 
ing high  marks  of  the  king's  resentment ;  for,  he  was 
a  second  time,  turned  out  of  the  privy  council,  the 
king  giving  him  this  character,  that  "  he  was  the 
fittest  instrument  for  a  tyrant,  that  ever  w^as  in  En- 
gland ;"  and  yei  he  had  in  the  house  of  commons, 
called  the  king's  prerogative  "  an  overgrown  mon- 
ster." .  Towards  the  close  of  1623,  he  was  nominat- 
ed with  several  others,  to  whom  large  powers  were 
given,  to  go  over  to  Ireland  ;  but  this  nomination 
though  accompanied  with  strong  expressions  of  con* 
fidence,  was  made  with  no  other  view,  than  to  get 
him  out  of  the  way,  for  fear  he  should  be  trouble- 
some ;  but  he  contrived  not  to  go.  lie  remained 
steadfast  to  his  opinions,  nor  does  it  appear,  that  he 
ever  sought  to  be  reconciled  to  the  court,  so  that  he 


68  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

was  absolutely  out  of  favour  at  the  death  of  king 
James. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  next  reign,  when  it  was 
found  necessary  to  call  a  new  parliament,  the  court 
party,  to  prevent  his  being  elected  a  member,  gofe 
him  appointed  sheriff  of  Buckinghamshire.  He  la- 
boured all  he  could  to  avoid  it,  but  in  vain,  so  that  he 
w^as  obliged  to  serve  the  office,  and  to  attend  the 
Judges  at  the  assizes,  where  he  had  ofte-n  presided 
as  lord  chief  justice.  This  did  not  hinder  his  being 
elected  knight  of  the  shire  for  Bucks,  in  the  parlia- 
ment of  1623,  in  which  he  disting-uished  himself  more 
than  any  man  in  the  House  of  Commons,  spoke 
warmly  for  the  redress  of  grievances,  argued  boldly 
in  defence  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject,  and  strenous- 
3y  supported  the  privileges  of  the  house. 

Atter  the  dissolution  of  parliament,  which  hapened 
the  March  following,  he  retired  to  his  house  in  Buck- 
inghamshire, where  he  spent  the  remainder  of  his 
days.  AVhilst  he  lay  on  his  death  bed,  his  papers  and 
last  will  were  seized  by  an  order  of  council ;  nor  were 
any  part  of  them  given  up  to  his  heirs,  till  about  se- 
ven years  after  his  death.  He  died  September  3d, 
1634,  in  his  eighty-sixth  year,  expiring  with  these 
remarkable  words  in  his  mouth,  as  his  monument  in- 
forms us  :  "  Thy  kingdom  come,  thy  will  be  done." 

Sir  Edward  had  great  quickness  of  parts,  deep  pe- 
netration, a  faithful  memory,  and  a  solid  judgment. 
He  committed  every  thing  to  writing  with  an  indus- 
try beyond  example,  and  published  a  great  deal.  He 
met  with  many  changes  of  fortune,  was  sometimes 
in  power,  and  sometimes  out  of  it.  He  was,  how- 
ever, so  excellent  at  making  the  best  of  a  disgrace, 
that  king  James  used  to  compare  him  to  a  cat,  who 
always  fell  upon  her  legs.  "  His  learned  and  labori- 
ous works  on  the  laws,''  says  Fuller,  in  his  Worthies, 
"  will  be  admired  by  judicious  posterity,  while  fame 
has  a  trumpet  left  her,  or  any  breath  to  blov/  therein." 
His  principal  works  are— -1st,  ''  Reports  and  cases. 


'  DICTIONARY.  65 

during  the  most  happy  reign  of  the  most  illustrious 
and  renovvn.ed  Queen  Elizabeth."  2d.  "  A  book  of 
entries."  3d.  "  His  institutes  of  the  laws  of  En- 
gland." The  first  part  of  this  work,  is  only  a  trans- 
lation and  commentary  upon  the  *'  Tenures  of  Sir 
Thomas  Littleton,"  one  of  the  judges  of  the  common 
pleas,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  IV.  The  second  part 
gives  us  Magna  Charta,  the  so  much  boasted  palla- 
dium of  English  liberty,  and  other  select  statutes, 
in  the  languages  in  which  they  were  first  enacted  ;  to 
"which  is  added,  a  most  excellent  and  learned  com- 
mentary, wherein  he  shews  how  the  common  laws 
stood  before  those  statutes  were  made,  how  far  they 
are  introductory  of  new  laws,  and  how  far  decJarato- 
ly  of  the  old  ;  what  were  the  causes  of  making  them, 
and,  in  what  degree,  at  the  time  of  his  writing,  they 
were  either  altered  or  repealed.  The  third  part  con- 
tains the  criminal  law,  or  pleas  of  the  crown,  where, 
amongst  other  things,  he  shews,  how  far  the  king 
may  proceed  by  his  prerogative,  in  regard  to  pardons 
and  restrictions ;  and,  where  the  assistance  of  parlia- 
ment is  necessary.  The  fourth  part  contains  the  ju- 
risdiction of  all  the  courts  in  England,  from  the  high 
court  of  parliament,  down  to  the  court-baron.  Al- 
though this  w-ork  was  written  in  England,  at  a  remote 
period,  yet  it  is  highly  appreciated  by  the  most  distin- 
guished counsellors  in  the  United  States,  and  contains 
much  information,  which  will  be  deemed  highly  in- 
teresting to  gentlemen  of  leisure,  who  are  fond  of  in- 
vestigating such  subjects. 

COLBERT,  (John  Baptist E  Marquis)  of  Seg- 
nelai,  one  of  the  greatest  statesmen  that  France  ever 
had,  was  born  at  Paris,  in  1619,  and  descended  from 
a  family  no  ways  considerable  for  its  splendour  or  an- 
tiquity. His  grand-father  and  father  were  m.erchants, 
and  he  himself  was  brought  up  to  the  same  profes- 
sion 5  but  afterwards  became  clerk  to  a  notary.  -  In 


70  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

1648,  he  was  recommended  to  the  service  of  Michael 
Le  Tellier,  Secretary  of  State,  and  here  he  discovered 
such  diligence  and  accuracy  in  executing  all  commis- 
sions entrusted  to  his  care,  that  he,  in  a  short  time, 
became  greatly  distinguished. 

Upon  a  certain  occasion,  Le  Tellier  had  sent  him 
to  Cardinal  Mazarine,  who  was  then  at  Sedan,  with 
a  letter  written  by  the  queen  mother,  and  ordered  him 
to  bring  it  back,  after  that  minister  had  seen  it. 
Colbert  carried  the  letter,  and  would  not  return  with- 
out it,  though  the  cardinal  treated  him  roughly,  used 
several  arts  to  deceive  him,  and  obliged  him  to  wait 
for  it  several  days.  Some  time  after,  the  cardinal  re- 
turning to  court,  and  wanting  a  confidential  secretary, 
desired  Le  Tellier  to  furnish  him  with  a  proper  person 
for  that  employm.ent :  and  Colbert  being  presented  to 
him,  the  cardinal  had  some  remembrance  of  him,  and 
desired  to  know  where  he  had  seen  him.  Colbert 
was  afraid  of  putting  him  in  mind  of  Sedan,  lest  the 
remembrance  of  his  importunity  in  demanding  the 
queen's  letter,  should  renew  the  cardinal's  anger ; 
but  Mazarine  was  so  far  from  being  displeased  with 
him,  that  he  greatly  commended  him  for  his  fidelity 
to  his  late  master,  and  desired  him  to  serve  him  with 
the  same  zeal  and  integrity. 

Colbert  accommodated  himself  so  dextrously  to  the 
inclinations  of  the  cardinal,  that  he  first  made  him  his 
intendant,  and  afterwards  entrusted  him  with  the  man- 
agement of  that  gainful  trade  of  selling  benefices 
and  governments.  By  Colbert's  counsel,  the  cardinal 
obliged  the  governors  of  frontier  places  to  maintain 
their  garrisons,  with  the  contributions  they  exacted, 
with  which  advice  his  eminence  was  so  well  pleased, 
that  he  soon  after  sent  him  to  Rome,  to  negociate 
some  business  of  the  utmost  importance,  with  his 
holiness  the  Pope. 

Upon  the  whole.  Mazarine  had  so  high  an  opinion 
of  Colbert's  abilities  and  faithful  services,  that,  at 
his  death,  in  1661,  he  earnestly  recommended  him 


Dictionary:  tI 

to  Louis  XIV.  as  the  most  proper  person  to  regulate 
the  finances  ;  which,  at  that  time,  stood  greatly  in 
need  of  reformation.  Louis  accepted  the  recommen- 
dation, and  made  Colbert  intendant  of  the  finances. 
He  applied  himself  to  their  regulation  and  succeed- 
ed ;  though  it  procured  him  many  enemies  and  some 
affronts.  France  is  also  obliged  to  this  minister  for 
establishing  at  that  time,  her  trade  with  the  East  and 
West-Indies  :  a  great  design,  and  from  which  she  has 
reaped  innumerable  advantages. 

In  1664,  he  became  superintendant  of  the  build- 
ings ;  and  from  that  time,  applied  himself  so  earnestly 
to  the  enlarging  and  adorning  the  royal  edifices,  that 
they  are  at  present  master-pieces  of  architecture  : 
witness  the  palace  of  the  Thuillieries,  the  Louvre, 
St.  Germain,  Fontainbleau,  Sec.  But  royal  palaces 
were  not  Colbert's  only  care  :  he  formed  several  de- 
signs for  increasing  the  beauty  and  convenience  of 
the  capital,  which  he  executed  with  great  magnifi- 
cence and  grandeur. 

He  established  the  academy  for  painting  and  sculp- 
ture, and  the  academy  of  sciences,  as  also  the  royal 
observatory  at  Paris.  France  also  owes  to  him  all 
the  advantages  she  receives  from  the  communication 
between  the  ocean  and  the  Mediterranean,by  the  canal 
of  Languedoc,  an  immense  work,  which  was  begun 
in  1666,  is  extended  over  hills  and  vallies  for  upwards 
of  100  miles,  and  was  completed  in  1680.  Colbert 
was,  likewise,  attentive  to  matters  of  a  more  private 
nature,  such  as  regarded  the  order,  decency  and  com- 
fort of  society.  He  undertook  to  reform  the  courts 
of  justice,  and  to  put  a  stop  to  the  usurpation  of  ti- 
tles of  nobility  j  a  practice,  which  was  then  very  com- 
mon in  France.  In  the  former  of  these  laudable  at- 
tempts he  failed  ;  in  the  latter  he  succeeded. 

In  1669,  he  was  made  secretary  of  state,  and  en- 
trusted with  the  management  of  affairs,  relating  to 
the  seas  ;  the  duties  of  which  ofrice,  he  performed  in 
such  a  manner,   as  to  answer  the  high  confidence 


l'2i  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

Louis  reposed  In  him.  He  suppressed  several  expen-' 
sive  and  useless  offices,  and  proposed  several  new  re- 
gulations in  criminal  courts.  For  the  advancement 
of  trade,  he  likewise,  procured  an  edict  to  erect  a 
general  insurance-office,  at  Paris,  for  merchants,  &;c. 
In  1672,  he  was  made  prime  minister,  in  which  ex- 
alted station  he  continued  till  his  death,  which  hap- 
pened 6th  Sept.  1683.  He  had  been  married  many 
years,  and  left  six  sons  and  three  daughters,  all  of 
whom  he  had  taken  care  to  marry  to  persons  of  rank. 
Colbert  was  a  man  of  middle  stature.  His  mien 
was  lov/  and  dejected,  his  air  gloomy,  and  his  aspect 
stern  and  forbidding,  yet  he  knew  how  to  act  the  lo- 
ver, for  notwithstanding  the  large  family  which  he 
had  in  wedlock,  he  openly  violated  the  rules  of  mora- 
lity, by  keeping  mistresses.  He  was  of  a  slow  con- 
ception, but  spoke  judiciously  of  every  thing  after  he 
comprehended  it.  He  understood  business  perfectly 
well,  and  pursued  it  with  unwearied  application. 
Thus  he  filled  the  most  important  places  with  high 
reputation  and  credit,  and  its  influence  diffused  it- 
self, through  every  part  of  the  government.  He  res- 
tored the  finances,  the  navy,  the  commerce,  and  erect- 
ed those  various  works  of  art,  which  have  ever  since 
been  monuments  of  his  taste.  He  was  a  lover  of 
learning,  and  conferred  donations  and  pensions  upon 
men  of  science  in  other  countries,  whilst  he  estab- 
lished and  protected  academies  in  hisown.  He  invit- 
ed into  France  eminent  artists  of  all  kinds  ;  thus 
giving  new  life  to  the  sciences,  and  making  them 
flourish  exceedingly.  Upon  the  whole,  he  was  a  wise, 
active  and  public  spirited  minister  ;  ever  attentive  to 
the  honour  of  his  king,  the  happiness  of  the  people, 
and  every  thing,  v^/hich  could  advance  the  credit  and 
interest  of  his  country. 

COLLINS,  (William)  a   late  unfortunate,  but 
admirable  poet,  was  born  at  Chichester,    England, 


DICTIONARY.  7S 

about  the  year  1124'.  He  received  his  classical  eda- 
cation  at  Winchester;  after  which  he  studied  at  Ox- 
ford, where  he  applied  himself  to  poetry,  and  pub- 
lished his  "Oriental  Eclogues;"  with  regard  to  which 
it  may  be  justly  asserted,  that,  in  simplicity  of  des- 
cription and  expression,  in  delicacy  and  softness  of 
numbers,  and  in  natural  and  unaffected  tenderness, 
they  are  not  to  be  equalled  by  any  thing  of  the  pasto- 
ral kind  in  the  English  language. 

About  1744,  he  suddenly  left  the  university,  and 
came  to  London,  where,  in  1746,  he  published  his 
OdeSj  descriptive  and  allegorical ;  but  the  sale  of  this 
work  not  being  answerable  to  its  merit,  he  burnt  the 
remaining  copies  in  indignation.  Being  a  man  of  a 
liberal  spirit,  and  of  small  fortune,  his  pecuniary  re- 
sources were  soon  exhausted,  and  his  life  became  a 
miserable  succession  of  necessity,  indolence  and  dis- 
sipation. He  projected  books,  which  he  was  not  able 
to  publish  ;  for  he  wanted  the  means  to  carry  his  ideas 
into  execution.  Day  succeeded  day,  for  the  support 
of  which  he  made  no  provision ;  and  he  was  obliged 
to  subsist  either  by  the  repeated  contributions  of  a 
friend,  or  the  generosity  of  a  casual  acquaintance. 
His  spirit  became  oppressed,  and  he  sunk  into  a  sul- 
len despondence.  While  in  this  gloomy  state  of  mind, 
his  uncle,  colonel  Martin  died,  and  left  him  a  con- 
siderable fortune  ;  but  this  came  too  late  for  enjoy- 
ment. He  had  been  so  long  harrassed  by  anxiety  and 
distress,  that  he  fell  into  a  nervous  disorder,  which, 
at  last,  reduced  the  finest  understanding  to  the  most 
deplorable  childishness.  In  the  first  stages  of  this 
disorder,  he  endeavoured  to  relieve  himself  by  travel- 
ling, and  passed  into  France  ;  but  the  growing  mala- 
dy obliged  him  to  return  ;  and,  having  continued, 
with  short  intervals,  in  the  most  piteous  state  of  men- 
tal derangement,  he  died,  in  1756. 

The  close  of  the  life  of  poor  Collins  can  never  be 
adverted  to  without  commiseration ;  for  when  he 
could  have  enjoyed  his  fortune,  he  had  it  not ;  and 

Vol.  II.  No.  \0.  K 


74  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

when  it  came  to  him,  he  was  in  too  melancholy  a 
state  to  enjoy  it.  The  ingenious  Mr.  Longhorne  pub- 
lished his  poetical  works  soon  after  his  death,  with 
memoirs  of  the  author,  in  one  vol.   12mo. 


COLUMBUS,  (Christopher)  the  celebrated 
navigator,  and  first  discoverer  of  the  islands  of  Ameri- 
ca, was  a  native  of  the  Republic  of  Genoa,  and 
born  about  the  year  1447.  With  respect  to  his  pedi- 
gree, we  have  no  certain  information,  only  that  he 
was  descended  of  an  honourable  family,  who,  by 
various  misfortunes,  had  been  reduced  to  indigence. 
His  parents  were  sea-faring  people,  and  Columbue^ 
having  early  discovered  an  inclination  for  that  way  of 
life,  was  encouraged  by  them  to  follow  the  same  pro- 
fession. He  was  accordingly  initiated  in  the  sciences 
of  geometry  and  astronomy,  which  form  the  basis  of 
navigation,  and  at  the  age  of  fourteen  went  to  sea. 

His  first  voyages  were  to  those  parts  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, frequented  by  the  Genoese;  after  which  he 
visited  Iceland,  and  proceeding  still  farther  North, 
sdvanced  several  degrees  within  the  polar  circle.  Af- 
ter this,  he  entered  int^o  the  service  of  a  sea-captain 
of  his  own  name  and  familv,  who  commanded  a  small 
squadron,  fitted  out  at  his  own  expence ;  and  by 
cruizing  sometimes  against  the  Mahometans  and 
sometimes  against  the  Venetians,  the  rivals  of  his 
country  in  trade,  had  acquired  both  v^^'ealth  and  repu- 
tation. With  him,  Columbus  continued  for  several 
years,  no  less  distinguished  for  his  courage,  than  his 
experience  as  a  sailor.  At  length,  in  an  obstinate 
engagement  off  the  coast  of  Portugal,  with  some 
Venetian  caravels,  returning  richly  laden  from  the 
Low  countries,  the  vessel  on  board  which  he  sailed, 
took  fire,  together  with  one  of  the  enemies  ships,  to 
which  it  was  fast  grappled.  At  this  alarming  crisis, 
Columbus  threw  himself  into  the  sea,  and  laid  hold  of 
a  floating  oar,  by  means  of  which,  and  his  own  dex- 


DICTIONARY.  75 

Verity  in  swimming,  be  reached  the  shore,  thougli 
^bove  two  leagues  distant.  After  this  disaster,  he 
Tepaired  to  Lisbon,  where  he  married  a  daughter  of 
Bartholomew  Perestiello,  one  of  the  captains  employ- 
ed by  Prince  Henry  oi:  Portugal,  in  his  early  naviga- 
tions,  and  who  had  discovered  and  planted  the  islands 
of  Porto  Santo  and  Madeira. 

Having  got  possession  of  the  journals  and  charts 
of  that  experienced  navigator,  Columbus  was  seized 
with  an  irresistible  desire  of  visiting  unknown  coun- 
tries. To  indulge  it,  he  made  a  voyage  to  Aladeira, 
and  continued  for  several  years  to*  trade  with  that 
island,  the  Canaries,  Azores,  the  settlements  in  Gui- 
nea, and  all  the  other  places  which  the  Portuguese 
had  discovered  on  the  continent  of  Africa.  By  the 
experience  acquired  in  such  a  number  of  voyages, 
Columbus  now  became  one  of  the  most  skilful  navi- 
gators in  Europe. 

It  must  here  be  premised,  that,  for  many  centuries, 
previous  to  the  days  of  Columbus,  the  rich  and  use- 
tul  productions  of  India  had  been  conveyed  into  Eu- 
rope, either  by  caravans,  through  the  desarts  of  Syria 
and  Arabia,  or  by  the  way  of  the  Red  Sea,  through 
Egypt,  into  the  Mediterranean  ;  but  as  either  of  these 
modes  was  attended  with  great  .difficulty  and  expencc, 
a  passage  to  the  East  Indies,  by  doubling  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  had  become  a  favourite  object  of 
discovery  with  the  Portuguese:  but,  though  they  ha,d, 
at  that  time,  consumed  about  half  a  century  in  mak- 
ing various  attempts,  they  had  advanced  no  farther 
on  the  Western  coast  of  Africa,  than  just  to  cross  the 
equator.  The  danger  and  tediousness  of  the  voyage, 
however,  supposing  it  to  be  really  accomplished, 
w^hich  as  yet  it  was  not,  set  Columbus  on  consider- 
ing whether  a  shorter  and  more  direct  passage  to  these 
regions  mJght  be  found  ;  and,  after  having  thorough- 
ly weighed  the  matter,  he  at  last  became  fully  cpn- 
vinced,  that,  by  sailing  across  the  Atlantic  ocean,  di- 
rectly towards  the  Yfest,  new  countries^  w^hich  pro- 


76  KEvV  BIOGRAPHICAL 

bably  formed  a  part  of  the  vast  continent  of  India, 
must  infallibly  be  discovered.  His  reasons  for  this, 
were,  in  the  first  place,  the  know^ledge,  which  from 
his  long  and  close  application  to  geography  and  navi- 
gation, he  had  acquired  of  the  true  figure  of  the 
earth.  He  reflected,  that  the  continents  of  Europe, 
Asia  and  Africa,  as  far  as  then  known,  formed  but  a 
small  part  of  the  globe  ;  and  he  considered  it  to  be 
much  more  suitable  to  the  ideas  we  entertain  of  the 
wisdom  and  beneficence  of  the  great  Author  of  Na- 
ture, to  believe  that  the  vast  space  still  unexplored, 
was  occupied  by  countries  fit  for  the  habitations  of 
men,  than  to  suppose  it  entirely  covered  by  an  im- 
mense and  barren  ocean  ;  besides,  he  was  led  to  con- 
ceive, that,  in  order  that  the  terraqueous  globe  might 
be  properly  balanced,  and  the  lands  and  seas  duly 
proportioned  to  each  other,  it  v^'as  indispensably  ne- 
cessary, that  a  large  continent  should  exist  in  the 
Western  hemisphere. 

These  conjectures  were  confirmed  by  the  observa- 
tions of  modern  navigators.  A  Portuguese  pilot  hav- 
ing stretched  farther  to  the  West,  than  was  usual,  at 
that  time,  took  up  a  piece  of  timber  artificially  carved, 
floating  upon  the  sea  ;  and,  as  it  was  driven  towards 
him  by  a  westerly  wind,  he  concluded,  that  it  came 
from  some  unknown  land  situated  in  that  quarter. 
Columbus's  brother-in-law  had  found  to  the  West  of 
the  Madeira  Isles,  a  piece  of  timber  fashioned  in  the 
same  manner,  and  brought  by  the  same  wind  ;  and 
had  also  seen  canes  of  an  enormous  size  floating  upon 
the  waves,  which  resembled  those  described  by  Ptole- 
my, as  productions  peculiar  to  the  East-Indies.  Af- 
ter a  course  of  westerly  winds,  trees  torn  up  by  the 
roots,  were  often  driven  upon  the  coast  of  the  Azores  ; 
and,  at  one  time,  the  dead  bodies  of  two  men,  with 
singular  features,  which  resembled  neither  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Europe  nor  Africa,  were  cast  ashore  there. 
The  most  cogent  reason,  however,  was  a  mistaken  no- 
tion of  the  ancient  geographers  concerning  the  ira- 


DICTIONARY.  77 

inense  extent  of  India  ;  for  though  hardly  any  of  them 
had  penetrated  beyond  the  river  Ganges,  some  Greek 
writers  had  ventured  to  describe  the  provinces  beyond 
that  river,  as  regions  of  an  immense  extent.  Ctesias 
affirmed,  that  India  was  as  large  as  all  the  rest  of 
Asia  :  Onesicritus,  whom  Pliny  the  naturalist  follows, 
contended,  that  it  was  equal  to  a  third  part  of  the 
habitable  globe  :  Nearchus  asserted,  that  it  would  take 
four  months  to  march  from  one  extremity  of  it  to  the 
other  in  a  straight  line  ;  and  the  journal  of  Marco 
Polo,  who  travelled  into  Asia,  in  the  13th  century, 
and  who  had  proceeded  towards  the  East  far  beyond 
the  limits  to  which  any  European  had  ever  advanced, 
seemed  also  so  much  to  conhrm  these  accounts,  that 
Columbus  was  persuaded,  that  the  distance  from  the 
most  westerly  part  of  Europe  to  the  most  easterly 
part  of  Asia  was  not  very  considerable  ;  and  that  the 
shortest  as  well  as  most  direct  course  to  the  /emote 
regions  of  the  East,  was  to  be  found  by  sailing  due 
West. 

Having  fully  satisfied  himself  with  respect  to  the 
truth  of  his  system,  he  became  impatient  to  reduce  it 
to  practice  -,  but  as  his  fortune  was  small,  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  secure  the  patronage  of  some  of  the  Euro- 
pean powers.  He,  accordingly,  laid  his  scheme,  be- 
fore the  senate  of  Genoa,  considering  it  as  his  duty, 
to  make  the  first  offer  of  his  services  to  his  native 
country.  They,  however  rejected  his  proposal  as  the 
dream  of  a  chimerical  projector,  and  thus  lost,  for 
ever,  the  opportunity  of  restoring  their  commonwealth 
to  its  ancient  lustre.  He  then  repaired  to  John  II. 
king  of  Portugal,  who  though  of  an  enterprising  ge- 
nius, and  no  inconsiderable  judge  of^  naval  affairs, 
had  been  at  so  vast  expence  in  prosecuting  discove- 
ries on  the  coast  of  Africa,  without  any  considerable 
success,  that  he  declined  to  accept  the  terms,  which 
Columbus  proposed.  Infiuenced,  however,  by  the  ad- 
vice of  a  favourite  courtier,  he  secretly  dispatched  a 
vessel  to  attempt  the  proposed  discovery,  by  follow- 


73  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

ing  exactly  the  course,  which  Columbus  had  pointed 
out  :  but  the  pilot  chosen  to  execute  Columbus's  plan, 
had  neither  the  genius  nor  fortitude  of  its  author. 
Contrary  winds  arose  ;  no  signs  of  approaching  land 
appeared  -,  his  courage  failed,  and  he  returned  to  Lis- 
bon, execrating  the  project  as  equally  extravagant  and 
dangerous. 

Disgusted  with  this  dishonourable  transaction,  he 
quitted  Portugal,- ^nd  went  to  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
who,  at  that  time  governed  the  united  kingdoms  of 
Castile  and  Arragon  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  sent 
his  brother  Bartholomew  to  England,  to  lay  his  pro- 
ject betore  Henry  VII.  who  was  reckoned  one  of  ^the 
most  sagacious,  as  well  as  opulent  princes  of  Europe  : 
but  Bartholomew  being  taken  by  pirates  and  detain- 
ed several  years  in  captivity,  was  not  able  to  lay  his 
proposals  before  Henry,  till  his  brother  was  upon  the 
point  of  accomplishing  his  wishes  in  another  quarter. 

Columbus,  in  person,  made  his  proposals  to  the 
court  of  Spain,  not,  however,  without  many  doubts 
of  success,  which  soon  appeared  to  be  well  founded. 
True  science  had  as  yet  made  so  little  progress  in  that 
kingdom,  that  most  of  those  to  whom  the  considera- 
tion of  his  plan  was  referred,  w^ere  utterly  ignorant 
of  the  first  principles,  on  which  he  grounded  his 
hopes.  Some,  from  mistaken  notions  concerning  the 
dimensions  of  the  globe,  contended  that  a  voyage  to 
those  remote  regions  of  the  East,  which  Columbus 
expected  to  discover,  could  not  be  performed  in  less 
than  three  years.  Others  concluded,  that  either  he 
would  find  the  ocean  ol:  infinite  extent,  according  to 
the  opinion  of  some  ancient  philosophers;  or,  that  if 
he  should  persist  in  steering  w^estw^rd  beyond  a  cer- 
tain point,  the  ship  going  necessarily  down  on  the 
opposite  side,  it  would  be  impossible,  that  she  should 
ever  re-ascend,  even  with  the  strongest  wind  ;  hence 
that  he  w^ould  perish  in  the  vain  attempt  to  unite  the 
two  hemispheres,  which  Nature  had  for  ever  disjoined. 
Even,  without  deigning  to  enter  into  any  particular 


DICTIONARY.  T9 

discussion,  some  rejected  the  scheme,  In  general,  upon 
the  credit  of  a  maxim,  under  which  the  ignorant  and 
indolent  of  every  age,  shelter  themselves:  "  That  it 
is  presumptuous  in  any  person  to  suppose,  that  he 
alone  possesses  superior  knowledge  to  ail  the  rest  of 
mankind."  They  maintained,  likewise,  that  if  there 
were  really  any  such  countries  as  Columbus  pretended, 
they  would  not  have  remained  so  long  unconcealed  ; 
nor  would  the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of  former  ages 
have  left  the  glory  of  this  discovery  to  an  obscure 
Genoese  pilot.  But  there  was,  still  another  objection, 
which  might,  perhaps,  in  these  days  of  superstition, 
have  operated  more  powerfully  on  the  minds  of  the 
Spaniards,  to  dissuade  them  from  entering  into  the 
views  of  Columbus,  than  any  we  have  as  yet  men- 
tioned. St.  Austin,  in  a  book  called  the  "  City  of 
God,"  had  denied  the  existence  of  the  Antipodes,  and 
the  possibility  of  going  from  one  hemisphere  to  the 
other:  and  as  the  writings  of  this  father  had  received 
the  sanction  of  the  church,  to  contradict  him  was 
deemed  heresy. 

For  such  sagacious  reasons,  the  proposal  of  Colum- 
bus was  for  several  years  rejected.     By  his  steadfast 
perseverance,  however,  and  the  influence  of  some  of 
his  friends.  Queen  Isabella  at  last  broke  through  all 
obstacles,  and  declared  herself  the  patron  of  Colum- 
bus.    The  negociation  now  went  forward  with  all 
facility  and  dispatch  ;  and   a  treaty  was  signed,  on 
the    17th  April  1492.     The   chief  articles  of  which 
were,  that  Columbus,  his  heirs  and  successors,  should 
hold  the  office  of  admiral  in  all  those  islands  and  con- 
tinents, which  he  should  discover  ;  that  he  should  be 
viceroy  of  the  same,  with  power  of  nominating  three 
associates,  of  whom  their  majesties  should  appoint 
one  :  that  he  should  have  a  tenth  part  of  the  nett  pro- 
ceeds of  all  the  gold,   silver,  precious  stones,  &:c. 
which  should  be  found  ;  and  that  all  controversies 
with  respect  to  mercantile  transactions  should  be  de- 
cided by  him,  or  by  a  deputy  of  his  own  appointment; 


80  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

and  lastly,  that  he  should  be  at  one  eight  part  of  the 
expences  of  the  first  fleet,  in  consequence  of  which, 
he  was  permitted  to  carry  on  merchandize  w^ith  the 
new  countries,  and  entitled  to  one  eight  part  of  the 
profit.  But  though  the  name  of  Ferdinand  was  join- 
ed with  Isabella,  in  this  transaction,  his  distrust  of 
Columbus  w^as  still  so  violent,  that  he  refused  to  take 
any  share  in  the  enterprize  as  king  of  Arragon  ^  and 
as  the  whole  expence  of  the  expedition  was  to  be  de- 
frayed by  the  crown  of  Castile,  Isabella  reserved  for 
her  subjects  of  that  kingdom,  an  exclusive  right  of  all 
the  benefits,  which  might  accrue  from  its  success. 
Thus,  to  the  superior  decision  of  a  woman's  mind, 
do  we  owe  the  discovery  of  this  extensive  continent. 

The  vessels  sent  on  this  important  search  were  only 
three  in  number,  and  two  of  them  very  small^  the  whole 
having  ninety  men  on  board  ;  and  although  the  ex- 
pence  of  the  expedition  had  long  remained  the  sole 
obstacle  to  its  being  undertaken,  yet  when  every  thing 
was  provided,  the  cost  did  not  amount  to  more  than 
17^760  dollars,  and  there  were  twelve  months  provi- 
sion put  on  board. 

On  the  3d  x\ugust  1492,  he  set  sail  from  Port  Pa- 
los,  in  the  province  of  Andelusia,  Spain,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  crowd  of  spectators,  who  united  their  sup- 
plications to  heaven  for  his  success.  Having  passed 
through  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  he  arrived  at  the  Ca- 
naries, on  the  12th  of  the  same  month,  w^here  he  was 
detained  in  repairing  one  of  his  crazy  vessels,  and  ta- 
king in  wood  and  water  till  the  6th  September,  w^hen 
he  launched  out  into  an  unknown  ocean. 

Columbus  now  found  a  thousand  unforeseen  hard- 
ships to  encounter,  which  demanded  all  his  judgment, 
fortitude,  and  address  to  surmount.  Besides  the  dif- 
ficulties unavoidable,  from  the  nature  of  his  underta- 
kins:,  he  had  to  stru2:£:le  with  the  ignorance  or  timi- 
dity  of  the  people  under  his  command,  who  were 
going  directly  from  home,  and  from  all  hope  of  relief, 
if  any  accident  should  betal  them  s  as  no  friendly 


DICTIONARY*  81 

potis,  nor  human  being  was  known  to  be  in  that  di- 
rection, in  which  they  were  bound.  Amongst  the 
various  causes,  which  tended  to  alarm  them,  the 
variation  ot  the  magnetic  needle,  was  not  the  least. 
This  extraordinary  phenomenon,  then  first  observed, 
seemed  to  indicate  that  nature  herself  had  sustained 
a  change,  and  that  heaven  incensed  at  their  audacity 
had  let't  them  to  perish,  by  depriving  them  of  the  only 
guide  they  had  to  point  them  to  a  saTe  retreat,  from 
an  unbounded  and  trackless  ocean.  The  trade  wind 
too,  which  was  rapidly  sweeping  them  along,  by  con- 
stantly blowing  in  one  direction,  seemed  to  preclude 
all  possibility  of  a  return. 

To  be  twenty  days  at  sea,  without  sight  of  land, 
was  what  the  boldest  mariner  had  never  before  at- 
tempted. At  the  expiration  of  that  time,  the  impa- 
tient sailors,  who  had  already,  at  different  times,  evinc- 
ed a  mutinous  disposition,  grew  outrageous,  and 
even  began  to  talk  of  throwing  their  commander  over- 
board. Their  murmurs  reached  his  ears  ;  but  his 
active  mind  was  never  at  a  loss  for  expedients,  even 
in  the  greatest  extremity.  He  afiected  to  appear  ig- 
norant of  their  machinations,  and  notwithstanding  the 
agitation  and  solicitude  of  his  own  mind,  he  appear- 
ed with  a  cheerful  countenance,  like  a  man  satisfied 
with  the  progress  which  he  had  made,  and  confident 
of  success.  Sometimes  he  employed  all  the  arts  of 
insinuation  to  soothe  his  men.  Sometimes  he  endea- 
voured to  work  upon  their  ambition  or  avarice,  by 
magnificent  descriptions  of  the  fame  and  wealth, 
which  they  were  about  to  acquire.  On  other  occa- 
sions, he  assumed  a  tone  of  auihority,  and  threatened 
them  with  vengeance  from  their  sovereign^  if,  by  their 
dastardly  behaviour,  they  should  defeat  this  noble  ef- 
fort to  promote  the  glory  of  God,  and  to  exalt  the 
Spanish  name  above  that  of  any  other  nation.  Even 
with  seditious  sailors,  the  w^ords  of  a  man,  whom  they 
had  been  accustomed  to  reverence,  were  weighty 
and  [persuasive  ;  and  not  only  restrained  them  from 
Vol.  II.  No.  10,  L 


^2  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

those  violent  excesses,  which  they  meditated,  but 
prevailed  with  them  to  follow  their  admiral  some  time 
]onf;er. 

As  they  proceeded,  the  indications  of  approaching 
land  seemed  to  be  more  certain.  The  birds  began  to 
appear  in  flocks,  making  towards  the  South-west. 
Columbus,  in  imitation  of  the  Portuguese  navigators, 
who  had  been  guided  in  several  of  their  discoveries 
by  the  motion  of  birds,  altered  his  course  from  due 
West,  towards  that  quarter,  whither  they  pointed  their 
flight.  But  after  they  had  gone  on  for  several  days  in 
this  direction,  with  no  better  success  than  formerly, 
having  seen  no  object  during  thirty  days,  but  the  sea 
and  the  sky,  the  hopes  of  his  companions  subsided 
faster  than  they  had  risen ;  their  fears  revived  with 
redoubled  force,  and  all  sense  of  subordination  was 
finally  lost.  Even  the  otlicens,  W'ho  had  hitherto  con- 
curred with  Columbus  in  opinion,  and  supported  his 
authority,  took  part  with  the  private  men  :  they  as- 
sembled tumultuously  on  deck,  expostulated  with 
their  commander,  and  threatened  him  with  death,  if 
he  did  not  instantly  tack  about  and  return  to  Europe. 
Columbus  perceiving  that  it  would  be  of  no  avail  to 
have  recourse  to  any  of  his  former  arts,  which  having 
been  tried  so  often,  had  lost  their  effect,  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  give  w^ay  to  a  torrent,  w^hich  he  was  no 
longer  able  to  oppose.  He,  therefore,  solicited  his 
men  to  accompany  him  thrt^e  days  longer,  solemnly 
promising,  that,  if  land  were  not  discovered  during 
that  time,  he  would  abandon  the  enterprise,  and  di- 
rect his  course  to  Spain. 

Impatient  as  the  sailors  were  to  return  to  tiieir  na- 
tive home,  this  proposition  did  not  appear  to  them 
unreasonable;  nor  did  Columbus  hazard  much  by 
confining  himself  to  so  short  a  time,  the  presages  of 
discovering  land  being  now  so  numerous,  that  he 
deemed  them  infallible.  For  some  days  the  sounding 
line  reached  the  bottom,  and  the  soil  which  it  brought 
up  indicated  land  to  be  at  no  great  distance.     The 


DICTIONARY.  83 

flocks  of  birds  encreased,  and  were  composed  not  on- 
ly of  sea-fowl,  but  of  such  land   birds,  as  could  not 
be  supposed  to  fly  far  from  tlie   shore.     The  crew  of 
one  of  his   vessels  observed   a   cane  floating,  which 
seemed  to  be  newly  cut  ;  whilst  the  sailors  on  board 
of  another  took  up  the  branch  of  a  tree  with  red  ber- 
ries perfectly  fresh.     The  clouds  around  the  setting 
sun  assumed  a  new  appearance,  the  air   w^as  more 
mild  and  warm  s  and,  during  night,  the  wind   be- 
came unequal  and  variable.     Fiom  all   these  symp- 
toms,  Columbus  was  so  confident  or  being  near  land, 
that,  on  the  evening  of  the  J  ]  th  October,  he  order- 
ed the  sails  to  be  furled  and  the  ships  to   lie   by,  lest 
they  should  be  driven  ashore  in  the  night.     Nor  was 
he  disappointed  in  his  expectations;  for,  about  two 
hours  before    midnight,  Columbus  standing  on  tlie 
forecastle,  observed  a  light  at   a  distance,  which,  he 
likewise,  pointed  out  to  two  of  his  friends,  who  all 
three  saw  it  in  motion,  as   if  it  were    carried   about 
from' place    to  place;  and,  about  two  oVloek  next 
morning,    the  joyful    sound    of  Im/icI  I  Land  I  was 
heard  from  the  headmost  ship.     But  having  been  so 
often  deceived  by   fallacious   appearances,  every  one 
was  now  become  slow  of  belief,  and  waited  with  all 
the  anguish  of  uncertainty  and  impatience  ibr  the  re- 
turn of  day.     As  soon  as  morning  dawned,  all  doubts 
and  fears  were  dispelled.     From  every  ship,  an  island 
was  seen  about  two  leagues  to  the  North,  whose  flat 
and  verdant  fields  presented  the  aspect  of  a  delight- 
ful country. 

The  sailors  were  now  as  extravagant  in  the  praise 
of  their  commander,  as  they  had  before  been  insolent, 
in  reviling  and  threatening  him.  They  threvi^  them- 
selves at  his  feet  imploring  his  pardon  and  pronounc- 
ed him  to  be  a  person  inspired  by  heaven  with  saga- 
city and  fortitude  more  than  human,  in  order  to  ac- 
complish a  design  so  far  beyond  the  ideas  and  con- 
ceptions of  all  former  ages. 


84  KEV/  BIOGRAPHICAL 

As  soon  as  the  sun  arose,  all  their  boats  were  man- 
ned and  armed  ;  and  they  rowed  towards  the  island 
with  warlike  music  and  martial  pomp.  As  they  ap- 
proached the  coast,  they  saw  it  covered  with  a  muUi- 
tude  of  people,  who,  by  their  attitudes  and  gestures, 
expressed  the  utmost  astonishment  at  the  strange  ob- 
jects, which  presented  themselves  to  their  view.  Co- 
jumbus  was  the  first  European,  who  set  foot  in  the 
New  World,  which  he  liad  discovered.  His  men  fol- 
lotved,  and  kneeling  down,  returned  thanks  to  heaven 
lor  conducting  their  voyage  to  so  happy  an  issue. 
This  island  was  one  of  the  Bahama  islands  ;  to  which 
he  gave  the  name  of  San  Salvador,  and  took  posses- 
sion of  it,  in  the  name  of  their  Catholic  majesties. 
The  natives  considered  the  Spaniards  as  divinities,  and 
the  discharge  of  their  artillery  as  thunder.  The 
women,  however,  offered  their  favours,  and  courted 
the  embraces  of  their  new  guests  as  men.  Their 
husbands  discovered  no  jealousy  ;  and  in  the  arms  of 
those  wantons,  the  companions  of  Columbus  are  said 
to  have  caught  that  malady,  which  though  at  that 
time  unknown  in  Europe,  has  since  been  the  usual 
punishment  of  those,  who  practise  illicit  embraces. 

He  afterwards  touched  at  several  of  the  islands  in 
the  samiC  cluster,  enquiring  every  where  for  gold, 
which  he  thought  was  the  only  object  of  commerce 
w^orth  his  attention.  In  steering  southward,  he  dis- 
covered the  two  large  islands  of  Cuba  and  Hispaniola, 
both  inhabited  by  a  humane  and  hospitable  people, 
and  on  the  last  of  which  he  built  a  fort,  and  left  39 
of  his  men.  On  his  return  home,  he  was  overtaken 
by  a  storm,  which  had  nearly  consigned  his  important 
discovery  to  everlasting  oblivion,  in  this  awful  crisis 
Columbus  gave  an  admirable  proof  of  his  calmness 
and  presence  of  mind.  He  wrote  on  parchment  a 
bhort  account  of  his  voyage,  wrapped  it  up  in  a  piece 
of  oil  cioth,  which  he  inclosed  into  a  cake  of  wax, 
put  it  into  a  light  cask,  and  threw  it  into  the  sea,  in 
hopes  that  some  fortunate  accident  might  preserve  a 


DICTIONARY.  85 

deposit  of  so  much  importance  to  the  world.  Bat 
this  precaution  proved  fruitless,  as  he  arrived  at  Port 
Palos,  from  whence  he  had  set  out  the  year  before,  on 
the  15th  March  14-93,  after  an  absence  of  seven 
months  and  eleven  days. 

The  account,  which  Columbus  gave  of  his  new  dis- 
coveries, the  specimens  of  gold  and  other  valuable 
productions,  and  the  sight  of  the  natives,  whom  he 
had  carried  with  him  from  the  West-Indies,  could 
not  fail  to  ingratiate  him  highly  with  the  court,  who 
conferred  upon  him,  every  possible  mark  of  honour, 
that  could  be  suggested  by  gratitude,  or  admiration. 
In  particular,  letters  patent  were  issued  confirming  to 
himself  and  his  heirs,  all  the  privileges  contained  in 
the  capitulation,  which  had  been  executed  before  his 
departure,  and  his  family  were  ennobled. 

Nothing  could  possibly  tend  more  effectually  to 
rouse  every  active  principle  in  human  nature,  than 
the  discoveries,  which  Columbus  had  made.  No 
time  was,  therefore  lost,  nor  <^xpcnce  spared  in  pre- 
paring a  fleet  of  ships,  wirh  which  this  great  man 
should  revisit  the  countries  he  had  made  known. 
Seventeen  ships  were  accordingly  got  ready  in  six 
months,  and  fifteen  hundred  persons  embarked 
on  board,  among  whom  were  many  of  noble,  fami- 
lies. These  engaged  in  the  enterprise,  from  an  ex- 
■  pectation  that  the  new  discovered  country  was  the 
Ophir,  mentioned  in  scripture,  from  which  Solomon 
obtained  his  gold  and  precious  merchandize. 

Columbus  set  sail  from  Cadiz,  on  his  second  voy- 
age, Sept.  15th  1493  ;  and  arrived  at  Hispaniola,  on 
the  12th  Nov.  following,  where  he  had  the  affliction 
to  find,  that  all  the  Spaniards,  whom  he  had  left  there, 
had  been  put  to  death  by  the  natives,  in  revenge  for 
the  insults  and  outrages  they  had  committed.  After 
having  established  a  new  colony,  in  a  more  eligible 
situation  than  the  former,  to  which  he  gave  the  name 
of  Isabella,  after  his  royal  patroness,  and  appointed 
liis  brother  Don  Diego  to  preside  as  deputy-governor. 


86  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

in  his  absence,  Columbus,  on  the  24th  April  1494, 
set  saii  to  make  farther  discoveries  on  those  seas.  In 
this  voyage,  he  was  employed  five  months,  and  fell  in 
with  many  small  islands  on  the  coast  of  Cuba,  but 
with  nothing  of  any  importance,  except  the  island  of 
Jamaica. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Hispaniola,  Columbus  had 
a  pitched  engagement  whh  the  Indians,  who,  accord- 
ing to  the  Spanish  historians,  amounted  to  upwards 
of  100,000  fighting  men.  These  having  experienced 
every  lawless  act  of  violence  from  their  invaders, 
were  rendered  extremely  inveterate,  and  thirsted  for 
revenge ;  a  disposition  which  appears  to  have  been 
foreign  to  their  natures.  For  this  unhappy  situation 
of  allairs,  it  appears,  that  no  great  share  of  blame  can 
be  attached  to  Colurribus  -,  for,  whilst  he  was  on  the 
spot,  he  kept  his  men  under  tolerable  subjection, 
and  had  been  able  in  a  great  measure,  to  restrain 
them  from  oppressing  the  natives  :  but,  it  being  im- 
possible for  the  inferior  officers  to  keep  them  underthe 
same  degree  of  subordination,  during  his  absence, 
they  acted  as  they  thought  proper,  and  had  thus 
brought  matters  to  the  present  unfortunate  crisis. 
The  truth,  therefore,  seems  to  be,  that  Columbus, 
upon  hii  return,  from  his  voyage  to  Cuba,  found  his 
cx>lony  actually  engaged  in  a  war,  which,  unless  he 
pursued  the  most  prompt  and  vigorous  measures, 
must  speedily  terminate  in  its  utter  destruction.  Hav- 
ing, therefore,  collected  his  full  force,  he  attacked 
the  Indians  by  night,  whilst  they  were  assembled,  in  a 
wid^plain,  and  obtained  a  most  decisive  victory,  with- 
out  the  loss  of  one  man  on  his  part.  Ber.ides  the  effects 
of  cannon  and  fire  arms,  the  noise  of  which  was  appal- 
ing,  and  their  effect  against  a  numerous  body  of  In- 
dians closely  drawn  together,  in  the  highest  degree 
destructive,  Columbus  had  brought  over  with  him  a 
small  body  of  cavalry.  The  Indians,  who  had  nevejr 
before  seen  such  a  creature,  imagined  the  Spanish  hors- 
es to  be  rational  creatures,  and  that  each  with  its 


DICTIONART.  87 

rider  formed  but  one  animal  ;  they  were  astonished 
at  their  speed,  and  considered  their  impetuosity  and 
strength  as  irresistible.  In  this  onset,  they  had  besides 
another  formidable  enemy  to  terrify  and  destroy  them  ; 
a  great  number  of  the  lar^^est  and  fiercest  species  of 
dogs,  which  were  then  bred  in  Europe,  had  been 
brought  hither,  which,  by  pursuing  the  tlying  Indians, 
so  affrightened  them, as  to  prevent  them  from  rallying. 
All  these  circumstances  combined  to  insure  to  the 
Spaniards  a  complete  victory.  Numbers  of  the  na- 
tives were  slain,  and  more  made  prisoners,  who  were 
indiscriminately  consigned  to  slavery. 

When  Columbus  returned  to  Spain,  from  his  se- 
cond voyage,  in  June  1496,  he  found  that  his  ene- 
mies had  been  very  active  and  successful  in  exciting, 
in  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  unfavourable  sentiments 
of  his  conduct ;  but,  by  his  presence  at  court,  he 
so  far  recovered  his  credit,  that  a  squadron  of  six 
ships  were  fitted  out,  with  which  he  proceeded  on  a 
third  voyage,  on  the  30th  of  May,  1498.  Taking  a 
more  southern  course,  he  discovered  the  island  of 
Trinidad,  on  the  coast  of  Guinea,  near  the  mouth  of 
the  great  river  Oronoko.  The  swell  occasioned  by 
this  vast  river  pouring  its  waters  into  the  ocean  was  so 
great,  as  to  expose  the  ships  to  extreme  danger ;  but 
after  long  combating  the  currents  and  tremendous 
waves,  with  doubtful  success,  he  conducted  his  squad- 
ron safe  through  a  narrow  strait,  which  separates  that 
island  from  the  continent,  and  to  which  he  gave  the 
name  of  "  Bocca  del  Drago,"  or,  The  Dragon's 
mouth.  He  justly  concluded,  that  such  a  vast  body 
of  water  must  flow  through  a  country  of  immense  ex- 
tent, and  that  he  was  now  arrived  at  that  continent, 
which  it  had  so  long  been  the  object  of  his  wishes  to 
discover.  Full  of  that  idea,  he  stood  to  the  West, 
along  the  coast  of  those  provinces  now  known  by  the 
names  of  Paria  and  Comana,  where  he  landed  in  se- 
veral places,  and  had  some  intercourse  with  the  na- 
tives.    "Thus,"    says  Dr,    Robertson,   "Columbus 


8S  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

had  not  only  the  glory  of  discovering  to  mankind  the 
existence  of  a  new  world,  but  made  considerable 
progress  towards  a  perfect  knowledge  of  it,  and  was 
the  first  man  who  conducted  the  Spaniards  to  that 
vast  continent,  which  had  been  the  chief  seat  of  their 
empire,  and  the  source  of  their  treasures  in  that  quar- 
ter of  the  globe." 

He  afterwards  directed  his  course  to  Hispaniola, 
where  he  arrived  30th  August,  1498.  AVorn  out 
with  incessant  solicitude  and  fatigue,  he  was  now 
hopeful,  that  he  would  enjoy  some  repose :  but,  in 
this,  he  was  cruelly  disappointed.  His  colonists  were 
to  the  last  degree  refractory  and  unmanageable,  so 
that  being  obliged  to  exercise  some  severity  towards 
them,  he  became  highly  obnoxious  to  the  most  tur- 
bulent, who  determined,  if  possible,  to  make  him  a 
sacrifice  to  their  vengeance.  Thus  bent  upon  ^is 
destruction,  they  transmitted  to  the  court  a  number 
of  m.alicious  and  unfounded  accusations  against  him; 
and  in  particular,  charged  him  with  cruelty  to  indi- 
viduals, aiming  at  independence,  and  engrossing  the 
tribute.  They  likewise  insinuated,  that  being  a 
foreigner,  he  had  no  proper  respect  for  the  Spanish 
nobility,  that  there  was  great  reason  to  suspect  him 
of  intentions  to  revolt  to  some  other  prince,  and,  that 
with  a  view  to  accomplish  this  design,  he  had  con- 
cealed the  real  wealth  of  the  colony,  and  prevented 
the  conversion  of  the  Indians  to  the  Catholic  faith. 

These  insinuations  prevailed  on  the  jealousy  of  Fer- 
dinand, and  even  staggered  the  constancy  of  Isabel- 
la. Francis  de  Bovadilla,  a  man  of  noble  rank,  was, 
therefore,  appointed  to  repair  to  ITispaniola,  with  full 
powers  to  enquire  into  the  conduct  of  Columbus,  and 
with  orders,  that,  in  case  he  found  him  guilty  of  mal- 
administration, he  should  supersede  him,  and  assume 
the  office  of  governor  of  Hispaniola.  This  commis- 
sion Bovadilla  exercised  in  the  most  arbitrary  and  ty- 
rannical manner;  for,  without  having  recourse,  even 
to  the  form  of  a  judicial  enquiry,  he  divested  Colum- 


DICTIONARY,  89 

bus  of  all  authority,  and  loading  him  with  irons,  sent 
him  as  a  prisoner  to  Spain. 

Although  this  violent  conduct  was  not  approved  of 
by  the  king  and  queen,  w^ho,  upon  his  arrival  at  Ca- 
diz, November  5th  1500,  endeavoured  by  outward 
marks  of  attention  and  respect,  to  wipe  off  the  ig- 
nominy, which  had  been  cast  upon  the  discoverer  of 
America ;  yet,  instead  of  reinstating  him  in  his  go- 
vernment, according  to  the  original  contract,  they 
only  expressed  their  sorrow  for  the  misbehaviour  of 
Bovadilla,  and  sent  Ovando  to  supersede  him,  who, 
however,  as  it  appeared  in  the  sequel,  proved  himself 
to  be  no  great  friend  to  Columbus.  On  the  whole, 
the  court  seems  to  have  had  so  little  sincerity  in  the 
friendly  professions  which  they  made  towards  this 
great  man,  that  it  is  highly  probable  he  could  never 
have  prevailed  on  them  to  assist  him  in  the  undertak- 
ing of  his  fourth  voyage,  had  not  the  Portuguese,  at 
that  very  time,  effected  a  passage  to  the  East  Indies  by 
doubling  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope ;  and,  as  it  had 
ever  been  the  firm  belief  of  Columbus,  that  the  most 
direct  way  tbither,  was  by  the  route  which  he  had 
struck  out,  they  could  not,  with  any  degree  of  pro- 
priety, refuse  him  the  means  of  ascertaining  that  import- 
ant point.  Four  small  vessels  were,  therefore,  assigned 
him  for  that  purpose,  carrying  in  all,  one  hundred  and 
forty  men  and  boys,  of  which  number,  were  his  bro- 
ther Bartholomew  and  his  second  son,  Don  Ferdinand, 
who  afterwards  wrote  his  life. 

He  sailed  from  Cadiz,  4th  May,  1502,  but  with- 
out being  invested  with  any  authority  in  the  country 
which  he  had  discovered.  When  he  arrived  at  His- 
paniola,  he  had  the  mortification  to  find,  that  Ovando 
was  so  far  from  being  inclined  to  assist  him,  that  he 
even  refused  to  admit  him  into  port.  He,  therefore, 
soon  quitted  that  island,  and  steering  towards  the  con- 
tinent, explored  all  the  coast  from  Cape  Gracias  a 
Dios,  Southward,  until  he  arrived  at  a  harbour,  which, 
on  account  of  its  beauty  and  security,  he  called  For- 
Vol.  II,  No.  10.  M 


90  NEW  EIOGRAPHICAL 

to  Bello.  Whilst  thus  coasting,  he  went  ashore  at 
several  places,  and  sometimes  proceeded  up  the 
country,  but  did  not  penetrate  so  far  as  to  cross  the 
isthmus,  which  separates  the  Atlantic  from  the  Paci- 
ik  ocean.  It  was  his  design  to  have  settled  a  colony 
to  the  West  of  Porto  Bello;  but  this  scheme  was  so 
much  disrellished  by  his  people,  that  he  could  not 
effect  it,  and  was,  therefore,  deprived  of  tlie  glory 
of  planting  the  fust  colony  on  the  continent  of  Ame- 
rica. 

On  his  return  homeward,  he  met  with  tempestuous 
weather  of  long  continuance,  by  which  his  ships 
were  so  shattered,  that  being  no  longer  able  to  keep 
them  above  water,  he  ran  them -aground  on  the  island 
ot  Jamaica.  In  this  emergency,  he  procured  from 
the  natives  two  of  their  largest  canoes,  in  which  he 
dispatched  some  of  his  people  to  inform  Ovando  of 
his  misfortune,  and  to  solicit  his  aid  ;  but  the  merci- 
less wretch  detained  the  messengers  eight  months 
without  an  asiswer,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  left  Co- 
lumbus to  suffer  the  severest  hardship,  from  the  dis- 
content of  his  companions,  and  the  want  of  provi- 
sions. The  natives  had,  at  first,  been  very  liberal  ia 
bringing  in  to  their  new  guests  a  part  of  such  food  as 
they  had  provided  for  themselves;  but  their  long  con- 
tinuance amongst  them  having  greatly  exhausted  their 
store,  they  at  last  determined  to  grant  them  no  far- 
ther supplies.  In  this  extremity,  the  fertile  invention 
of  Columbus  suggested  an  expedient,  which  proved 
successful.  Knowing  that  a  total  eclipse  of  the  moon 
was  at  hand,  he  sent  for  some  of  the  principal  In- 
dians, and  informed  them,  that  the  God,  whom  he 
worshipped,  was  angry  with  them  for  denying  him 
provisions,  and  would  punish  them  with  pestilence 
and  famine  ;  as  a  proof  of  which,  the  moon  would, 
that  very  evening,  be  covered  with  blood.  Some  re- 
ceived this  intelligence  with  terror  ;  others  with  in- 
difference :  but  when  the  eclipse  appeared  at  the  pre- 
cise time   he   had   predicted,  they  came   in   crowds 


DICTIONARY.  ^\ 

loaded  with  provisions,  and  begged  him  to  intercede 
with  his  God  in  their  "behalf.  Columbus,  for  some 
time,  retired  to  his  cabin,  and  when  the  eclipse  be- 
gan to  go  off,  came  out  and  informed  them,  that  God 
had  heard  his  prayers,  and  promised,  that,  if  tliev 
w^ouldj  in  future,  supply  him  with  provisions,  he 
would  forgive  them ;  and  that  as  a  token,  the  moon 
w^ould  re-assume  its  usual  appearance.  They  return- 
ed him  their  thanks,  and  from  that  time,  during  his 
stay  on  the  island,  there  vras  no  more  want  of  pro- 
visions. 

After  having  suffered  innumerable  hardships,  chief- 
ly from  the  neglect  of  Ovando,  some  of  his  people 
were  at  last  able  to  buy  a  small  vessel  at  Hispaniola, 
in  which,  when  brought  round  to  Jamaica,  Columbus 
and  his  men  set  sail  :  and  after  a  lon^x  and  dlstressiuij: 
voyage,  in  which  the  ship  lost  her  masts,  arrived  at  Sr. 
Lucar,  in  Spain,  in  May  1505. 

His  patroness  Isabella  had  been  dead  some  time, 
and  with  her  had  expired  all  the  favour,  which  he 
had  ever  enjoyed  in  the  court  of  Ferdinand.  Dis- 
gusted with  the  ingratitude  of  a  monarch,  whom  he 
had  served  v^^ith  so  much  fidelity  and  success,  a!id 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  he  ended  his  active  and  useful 
life,  at  Valladolid,  on  the  20th  May  1506,  in  the 
59th  year  of  his  age.  lie  died  with  a  composure  of 
mind  suited  to  the  magnanimity  which  distinguished 
his  character,  and  with  sentim.ents  of  piety  becoming 
the  sincere  respect  for  religion,  which  he  manifested 
in  every  occurrence  of  his  life.  He  was  c^rave,  thou'^h 
courteous  in  his  deportment,  circumspect  in  his  words 
and  actions,  irreproachable  in  his  morals,  and  exem- 
plary in  his  religious  duties.  The  king  was  so  just 
to  his  memory,  notwithstanding  his  ingratitude,  du- 
ting  his  life,  that  he  buried  him  magnificently,  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Seville,  and  erected  a  tomb  over  him 
with  this  inscription: 


D2  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

A  C as  I  ill  a,  ya  Leon^ 
Ntievo  Mundo  dio  Colon, 

Translated  thus  : — 
To  Castile  and  Leon 
Columbus  gave  a  New  World. 

CONDORCET,  (Caritat  De)  so  much  cek* 
brated  in  the  annals  of  the  French  revolution,  was  de- 
scended from  a  noble  family,  and  born  at  Avignon  in 
France,  about  the  year  1750.  There  he  received  a 
good  education,  and  applied  himself,  particularly  to 
the  study  of  mathematics  and  the  belles  lettres. 

He  was  early  in  life  introduced  to  Voltaire  and  D* 
Alembert,  and  from  them  imbibed  those  principles  of 
scepticism,  which  at  last,  as  is  said,  degenerated 
even  to  perfect  atheism.  Under  these  principles,  he 
formed  his  mind,  and  endeavoured  to  cultivate  a  si- 
milarity of  taste. 

Condorcet  was  assiduous  and  even  servile  in  his  at- 
tention to  the  great,  and  by  their  favour,  was,  in  1791, 
nominated  perpetual  secretary  of  the  academy  of  sci- 
ences, at  Paris.  His  principal  claim  to  literary  repu- 
tation arises  from  a  life  of  Voltaire,  which  accompa- 
nied a  compleat  edition  of  his  works.  He  also  wrote 
some  tracts,  which  are  now  little  known,  and  which 
conveyed  his  favourite  principles  of  infidelity. 

Condorcet,  by  being  an  active  member  of  most  of 
those  societies,  which  had  been  formed  in  France,  for 
the  ostensible  purpose  of  diffusing  political  know- 
ledge, was  at  the  beginning  of  the  revolution,  a  very 
popular  character,  and  accordingly,  at  that  period, 
commenced  editor  of  a  newspaper,  called  Le  Chro- 
vAqiie  de  Paris,  which,  perhaps,  as  much  as  any  other 
publication  of  the  times,  tended  to  overthrow  the 
French  monarchy  and  to  bring  about  the  new  order 
of  things. 

Condorcet  was  a  member  of  the  Jacobin  Club,but 
his  eloquence  was  not  calculated  to  assist  the  cause 


DICTIONARY.  93 

he  espoused,  by  speaking  so  much  as  by  writing. 
His  voice  was  shrill  and  squeaking,  and  his  timidity 
was  so  great,  that  his  votes  often  counteracted  the 
effects  of  his  arguments,  owing  to  the  fear  of  the 
galleries. 

At  the  period  of  the  king's  flight  to  Varennes, 
Condorcet  was  one  of  the  projectors  of,  and  a  prin- 
cipal contributor  to  the  paper  called  he  llepuhlknn. 
His  wife,  at  the  same  time,  was  engaged  in  rransla- 
ting  into  French,  the  essays  written  by  Thomas 
Paine. 

At  the  dissolution  of  the  constituent  assembly, 
Condorcet  was  elected  deputy  for  Paris,  lie  follow- 
ed the  political  career  of  Brissot,  and  was  also  an  ar- 
dent adversary  of  the  emigrants,  against  whom  he 
called  forth  severe  degrees,  and  made  several  violent 
harangues. 

He  was  still  distinguished  by  his  atheistical  princi])les, 
and  declared  in  the  assembly,  that  the  eliicacy  of  an 
oath  was  totally  independent  of  the  belief  of  a  God. 
He  was  also  a  strenuous  promoter  of  all  the  severe 
and  violent  measures  against  the  clergy. 

Notwithstanding  his  atheism,  the  National  Assem- 
bly appointed  him  a  member  of  tlie  committee  of 
public  instruction.  To  this  subject  he  applied  with 
great  attention,  and  presented  to  the  legislature,  the 
report  of  a  plan  for  forming  the  minds  of  the  rising 
generation,  the  expence  of  which  was  estimated  at 
524,000,000  of  livrej  (4,662,000  dollars).  The  pro- 
ject was  received,  but  never  put  into  execution. 

Condorcet  drew  up  the  famous  manifesto  published 
by  the  French  nation  to  all  the  powers  of  Europe,  on 
the  approach  of  war.  This  paper  was  received  with 
the  loudest  applause,  ordered  to  be  printed,  trans- 
mitted to  the  executive  power  for  the  purpose  of 
communicating  it  to  foreign  nations,  sent  to  the  eighty 
three  departments,  to  all  the  regiments  of  the  line 
and  national  battalions,  and  translated  into  ail  lan- 
guages. 


^4  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

After  the  dreadful  events  of  the  10th  of  August 

1792,  Condorcet  assiduously  united  his  endeavours 
with  the  other  chiefs  of  the  republicans,  in  bringing 
about  a  total  subversion  of  the  French  monarchy,  and 
in  effecting  the  new  system  of  government.  With 
this  view  he  wrote  his  Reflections,  in  which  he  endea- 
voured to  assimilate  the  revolution,  which  took  place 
in  England  in  1688,  tothat,  which  had  been  effected 
in  France  in  1792.  He  also  drew  up  an  exposition 
of  the  motives,  by  which  the  assembly  had  acted. 

Upon  the  meeting  of  the  first  convention,  Condor- 
cet was  appointed  vice-president,  and  was  one  of  the 
committee  appointed  to  revise  the  constitution.  In 
this  arduous  undertaking,  so  much  reliance  was  pla- 
ced on  his  abilities  and  judgment,  that  the  committee 
permitted  him  to  assume  the  principal  merit  of  the 
work.  His  production  was  submitted  to  the  conven- 
tion, where  the  constitutional  act  obtained  feeble  ap- 
probation, but  the  Jacobins  pronounced  it  detestable. 

During  the  contest  between  the  Moimtain  and  the 
Brissotines,  Condorcet  maintained  a  cautious  silence, 
having  scarcely  spoke  in  the  convention  for  eight 
months.  He  seems,  likewise,  to  have  been  singu- 
larly wary,  in  not  risking  an  opinion  on  any  party 
question.  Yet,  though  he  could  conquer  every  sen- 
timent of  friendship,  and  stifle  every  indignant  sensa- 
tion, at  the  destruction  of  his  party,  his  vanity  as  an 
author  propelled  him  to  a  fatal  exertion :  for,  when 
the  constitution,  commonly  called  the  constitution  of 

1793,  had  been  accepted,  he  published  An  Address 
io  all  French  citizens,  reprobating  the  extreme  rapi- 
dity and  want  of  consideration,  with  which  it  had 
been  framed  and  accepted  3  and  detailing  the  nume- 
rous acts  of  violence,  by  which  the  prevailing  party 
had  established  their  influence.  This  rash  act  placed 
him  in  the  power  of  the  Mountain,  and  Chabot  moved 
for  a  decree  of  accusation  against  him,  which  v^^as 
iminediately  granted. 


DICTIONARY.^  9^ 

He  escaped  from  the  arrest,  and  concealed  himself 
nine  months  in  the  house  of  a  woman  in  Paris.  At 
length,  however,  a  domiciliary  visit  was  threatened, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  quit  his  asylum.  He  had  the 
good  fortune,  though  unprovided  with  a  passport,  to 
escape  through  the  barrier,  and  went  to  the  house  of  a 
friend  at  Mount  Rouge.  Unfortunately,  this  gentle- 
man was  at  Paris,  from  which  he  was  not  expected 
to  return  in  less  than  three  days,  during  which  time 
our  fugitive  was  obliged  to  wander  about  exposed  to 
cold,  hunger,  fatigue  and  also  the  most  dreadful  sus- 
pence.  At  length  his  friend  returned  and  found  him  : 
but  considering  it  dangerous  to  take  him  into  his  house 
in  the  day  time,  requested  him  to  wait  till  night, 
when  he  would  receive  and  conceal  him.  Condor- 
cet,  on  the  day  his  friend  had  fixed  as  the  end  of  his 
miseries,  forgot  the  dictates  of  prudence  :  for  having 
asked  for  some  refreshment  at  an  inn,  his  dirty  cap, 
torn  clothes,  leanness  and  voracity  excited  the  suspi- 
cions of  some  persons  present,  one  of  whom  being  a 
municipal  officer  committed  him  to  a  dungeon  for* 
that  night,  ivhere  he  was  found  dead  next  morning. 
He  always  carried  a  dose  of  poison  about  with  him, 
and  with  this  he  had  put  a  period  to  his  mortal  exist- 
ence, to  avoid  a  trial  before  the  revolutionary  tribunal. 

From  Condorcet's  character,  as  emphatically  des- 
cribed by  Madame  Roland,  we  shall  select  a  few 
sentences.  "  The  genius  of  Condorcet,"  says  she, 
"  is  equal  to  the  comprehension  of  the  greatest 
truths,  but  he  has  no  other  characteristic  besides 
fear."  She  concludes  thus,  "  the  properest  place  for 
liim  was  the  secretary-ship  of  the  academy.  Such 
men  should  be  employed  to  write,  but  never  to  act : 
it  is  a  happiness  to  be  able  to  draw  ^some  utility 
from  them  :  even  that  is  not  to  be  done  with  all  timid 
persons  :  in  general  they  are  good  for  nothing."  It 
was  during  his  seclusion  in  Paris,  that  Condorcet 
wrote  his  famous  sketch  of  "  TJie  Progress  of  the 
Human  Mind^"  to  which  even  his  enemy  Barueil  al- 


96  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

lows  the  inerlt  of  correct  composition.  The  object 
of  this  work,  is  to  enforce  a  belief  of  the  perfectabi- 
Jity  of  man,  and  the  author  carried  this  chimerical 
delusion  so  far,  as  to  assert,  that  longevity  and  every 
desirable  personal  quality  were  attainable.  The  end 
of  Condorcet  himself,  forms  a  respectable  refutation 
of  his  absurd  doctrine  :  for  although  he  had  so  recent- 
ly philosophized  on  the  subject,  and  might  be  sup- 
posed thoroughly  imbued  with  the  principles  he  was 
desirous  to  enforce,  he  threw  away  his  life  by  want- 
ing strength  to  resist  the  importunities  of  hunger  for 
a  few  hours. 

CONFUCIUS,  the  celebrated  Chinese  philosopher, 
^vas  born  in  the  province  of  Xantung,  about  551  years 
before  the  birth  of  Christ.  He  did  not  grow  in 
knowledge  by  degrees,  as  children  generally  do,  but 
seemed  to  arrive  at  the  perfect  use  of  his  faculties, 
almost  from  his  infancy.  He  took  no  delight  in  play, 
nor  in  those  amusements,  which  are  usual,  with  chil- 
dren of  his  age,  but  had  a  grave  and  serious  deport- 
ment, which  gained  him  universal  respect,  and  seem- 
ed to  foretel  his  future  greatness.  But  what  distin- 
guished him  most,  w^as  his  exalted  piety.  He  ho- 
noured his  relations  ;  he  endeavoured  in  all  things  to 
imitate  his  grandfather,  who  was  then  alive  and  repu- 
ted a  most  holy  man,  and  never  ate  any  thing  without 
first  prostrating  himself  upon  the  ground  and  offering 
thanks  to  the  supreme  giver  of  all  good. 

After  the  death  of  his  grandfather,  Confucius  ap- 
plied himself  to  Teem-se,  a  celebrated  doctor  of  his 
time,  under  whose  direction,  he  soon  made  a  vast 
progress  into  antiquity,  which  he  considered  as  the 
source,  from  whence  all  genuine  ki^owledge  was  to 
be  drawn.  As  a  proof  of  hh  sentiments  upon  this 
subject,  we  may  mention,  that  when  he  was  only 
sixteen  years  of  age,  he  expressed  himself  in  the 
following  remarkable  words,  to  a  mandarine,  who 


DICTIONARY.  97 

was  speaking  disrespectfully  of  the  Chinese  books, 
on  account  of  their  obscurity — "  The  books  you 
despise,"  says  he,  "  are  full  of  profound  knowledge, 
which  is  not  to  be  attained,  but  by  the  wise  and 
learned ;  and  the  people  would  think  cheaply  of 
them,  could  they  comprehend  them  of  themselves. 
This  subordination  of  spirits,  by  which  the  ignorant 
are  dependant  on  the  knowing,  is  very  useful,  and 
even  necessary  in  society.  Were  all  families  equally 
rich,  and  equally  powerful,  there  could  not  subsist  any 
form  of  government ;  but  there  would  happen  a  yet 
stranger  disorder,  if  all  men  were  equally  knowing  ; 
viz.  every  one  would  be  for  governing,  and  none 
would  think  themselves  obliged  to  obey." 

At  the  age  of  23,  having  made  great  progress, 
both  in  morals  and  politics,  he  began  to  project  a 
scheme  for  a  general  reformation.  All  the  little 
kingdom^  of  China  depended  upon  the  emperor  ;  but 
then  every  province  was  a  distinct  kingdom,  which 
had  its  peculiar  laws,  and  was  governed  by  a  prince 
of  its  town.  Hence  it  often  happened,  that  the  im- 
perial authority  was  not  sufficient  to  keep  them  withia 
the  bounds  of  their  duty  and  allegiance,  but  especi- 
ally at  a  time,  when  luxury,  the  love  of  pleasure,  and 
a  general  dissolution  of  manners,  prevailed  in  all  those 
little  courts. 

Confucius,  persuaded,  that  no  people  could  ever  be 
happy,  amongst  whom  avarice,  ambition  and  volup- 
tuousness are  predominant,  resolved  to  preach  up  a 
severe  morality  amongst  his  'countrymen  ;  and  accor- 
dingly endeavoured  to  prevail  upon  them  to  contemn 
riches  and  worldy  pleasures,  and  to  esteem  temper- 
ance, justice,  and  the  other  virtues.  He  also  strove 
to  inspire  them  with  such  magnanimity  as  to  be  proof 
against  the  frowns  of  princes,  and  with  a  sincerity 
incapable  of  the  least  disguise.  His  extensive  know- 
ledge and  the  splendour  of  his  virtues,  made  him  uni- 
versally known  and  beloved.  Kings  were  governed 
by  his  counsels,  and  the  people  reverenced  him  as  a 

Vol.  II.  No.  10,  N 


9Z  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

saint.  He  was  offered  several  high  offices  in  the  ma- 
gistracy, which  he  sometimes  accepted,  never  from 
motives  of  ambition,  but  from  a  desire  of  reforming 
a  corrupt  state  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  found,  that  he  could 
be  no  longer  useful  in  office,  he  never  failed  to  resign. 
Thus  for  instance,  he  was  raised  to  a  considerable 
place  of  trust,  in  the  kingdom  of  Lou,  where  he  had 
not  exercised  his  charge  above  three  months,  when 
by  his  councils  and  management,  a  great  reformation 
was  wrought  both  in  the  court  and  provinces.  He 
corrected  many  frauds  and  abuses  in  the  way  of  trade; 
he  inpulcated  candour  and  fidelity  amongst  the  men, 
and  exhorted  the  women  to  chastity  and  a  simplicity 
of  manners. 

By  such  methods,  he  every  where  established  such 
concord  and  unanimity,  that  the  whole  kingdom 
seemed  united  like  one  great  family. 

The  neighbouring  princes  began  to  be  jealous. 
They  easily  perceived,  that  a  king,  under  the  councils 
of  such  a  man  as  Confucius,  would  quickly  render 
himself  too  powerful ;  since  nothing  can  make  a  state 
flourish  more  than  good  order  among  the  members, 
and  an  exact  observance  of  its  laws.  Alarmed  at 
this,  one  of  the  neighbouring  kings  assembled  his  mi- 
nisters to  consider  of  the  most  effectual  methods  of 
putting  a  stop  to  the  career  of  this  new  government. 
They  collected  together  a  great  number  of  young 
girls,  of  extraordinary  beauty,  who  were  perfect  mis- 
tresses of  all  those  charms  and  accomplishments, 
which  might  please  and  captivate  the  heart  ;  and 
these,  under  the  pretext  of  an  embassy,  they  present- 
ed to  the  king  of  Lou  and  to  the  grandees  of  his 
court.  The  present  was  joyfully  received,  and  had 
its  desired  effect.  The  arts  of  good  government  were 
immediately  neglected,  nothing  was  thought  of,  but 
inventing  new  pleasures  tor  the  entertainment  of  the 
fair  strangers,  and  the  court  was  entirely  dissolved  in 
sensuality  and  pleasure.  Confucius  had  foreseen  all 
this,  and  endeavoured  to  prevent  it,  by  advising  the 


DICTIONARY,  99 

refusal  of  the  present ;  and  he  now  laboured  to  take 
off  the  delusion  they  were  fallen  into,  and  to  bring 
them  back  to  reason.  But  all  his  endeavours  proved 
ineffectual ;  and  the  severity  of  the  philosopher  was 
obliged  to  give  way  to  the  overbearing  fashion  of  the 
court.  Upon  which  he  immediately  relinquished  his 
employment,  exiling  himself,  at  the  same  time,  from 
his  native  country,  to  try  if  he  could  find  in  other 
kingdoms,  minds  and  dispositions  more  fit  to  relish 
and  pursue  his  maxims. 

He  passed  through  several  of  the  kingdoms  of  the 
East,  but  every  where  met  with  insurmountable  dif- 
ficulties.    He  had  the  misfortune  to  live  in  turbulent 
times,  when  men    had  but  little  leisure,  and  far  less 
inclination  to  listen  to  his  philosophy.     Hence  he  of- 
ten met  with  ill  treatment  and  reproachful  language, 
and  was  sometimes  reduced  to  such  extremities,  that  he 
was  in  danger  of  perishing  by  hunger.     Some  philo- 
sophers amongst  his  cotemporaries,  were  so  affected 
with  this  terrible  state  of  things,  that  they  retired  into 
the  mountains  and  desarts,  as   the  only  places  where 
happiness  could  be  found  ;  and  would  have  persuad- 
ed Confucius  to  follow  their  example.     But,  "  I  am  a 
man,"  says  he,  "  and  cannot  exclude  myself  from  the 
society  of  men,  and  consort  with  beasts.    Bad  as  the 
times  are,  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to  recall  men  to  virtue : 
for  in  virtue  are  all  things,  and  if  mankind  would  but 
once  embrace  it,  and  submit  themselves  to   its  disci- 
pline and  laws,  they  would  not  want  me,  or  any  body 
else  to  instruct  them.     Human    nature   came   to  us 
from  heaven    pure  and  perfect ;  but,  in   process  of 
time,  ignorance,  the  passions  and  evil  examples  have 
corrupted  it.     All  consists  in  restoring  it  to   its  primi- 
tive beauty;  and,  to  be  perfect,  we  must  re-ascend 
to  that  point  from  which  we  have  fallen.  Obey  heaven, 
and  tollow  the  orders  of  him  who  governs  it.     Love 
your  neighbour  as  yourself.     Let  your  reason,  and 
not  your  senses,  be  the  rule  of  your  conduct  j  for  rea- 


ICO  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

son  will  teach  you  to  think  wisely,  to  speak  prudent- 
ly and  to  behave  yourself  worthily  upon  all  occasions." 

But  notvv'ithstanding  the  opposition,  which  Confu- 
cius met  wilh,  in  the  propagation  of  his  doctrine,  he 
was  at  last  able,  by  his  unremitting  exertions,  to  pro- 
selyte great  numbers,  who  were  unviolably  attached 
to  his  person.  He  is  said  to  have  had,  at  least,  three 
thousand  disciples,  seventy-two  of  whcm  were  distin- 
guished above  the  rest  by  their  superior  attainments, 
and  ten  above  them  all,  by  their  comprehensive  view 
and  perfect  knowledge  of  his  whole  philosophy  and 
doctrines. 

He  sent  six  hundred  of  his  disciples  into  different 
parts  of  the  empire,  to  reform  the  manners  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  and  not  satisfied  with  benefiting  his  own  country 
only,  he  made  frequent  resolutions  to  pass  the  seas, 
and  propagate  his  doctrine  to  the  farthest  parts  of  the 
w^orld.  On  the  whole,  he  seems  to  have  carried  the 
religion  of  nature  as  far  as  unassisted  reason  could 
possibly  reach.  Indeed,  when  we  consider  the  purity 
of  his  morality,  he  seems  rather  to  speak  like  a  teach- 
er of  a  revealed  law,  than  like  a  man,  who  had  no 
light,  but  the  law  of  nature  ;  and  what  convinces  us 
of  his  sincerity  is,  that  he  taught  as  forcibly  by  exam- 
ple, as  by  precept.  In  short,  his  gravity  and  sobriety, 
his  vigorous  abstinence,  his  contempt  of  riches,  and 
what  are  com.monly  called  the  goods  of  this  life,  his 
continual  attention  and  watchfulness  over  his  actions, 
and  above  all,  his  uncommon  modesty  and  humility 
would  almost  tempt  one  to  believe,  that  he  was 
not  a  mere  philosopher  by  reason  only,  but  a  man  in- 
spired by  God,  for  the  reformation  of  the  world,  and 
to  check  that  torrent  of  idolatry  and  superstition, 
which  was  going  to  overspread  that  particular  part 
of  it. 

He  died  in  his  73d  year,  lamented  by  the  whole 
empire,  who,  from  that  very  moment,  revered  him 
as  a  messenger  sent  from  heaven  to  instruct  mankind, 
and  established  such  a  veneration  for  his  memory,  as 


DICTIONARY.  101 

will  probably  last  for  ever  in  those  parts  of  the  world. 
Kings  have  built  palaces  for  him  in  all  the  provinces, 
whither  the  learned  go  at  certain  times  to  pay  him 
homage.  Each  tov/n  has  a  palace  consecrated  to  his 
memory,  and  near  the  city  Kis-fou,  on  the  banks  of 
the  river  Su,  where  he  w^as  wont  to  assemble  his  dis- 
ciples, they  built  his  sepulchre,  and  have  since  enclos- 
ed it  with  walls,  which  look  like  a  small  city  to  this 
very  day. 

Confucius  did  not  trust  altogether  to  the  memory 
of  his  disciples  for  the  preservation  of  his  philosophy, 
but  composed  several  books,  which  are  still  held  in 
high  estimation  by  the  learned  in  China  3  and  though 
these  books  were  greatly  admired  for  the  doctrines 
they  contained,  and  the  fine  principles  of  morality  they 
taught,  yet  such  was  his  unparalleled  modesty,  that  he 
never  assumed  the  least  honour  on  their  account. 
He  ingenuously  confessed,  that  the  doctrine,  which 
he  taught  was  not  his  own  ;  and  that  he  had  done  no 
more  than  to  collect  it,  from  the  writings  of  those  wise 
legislators,  who  had  lived  1500  years  before  him. 
The",  who  would  wish  to  have  a  jjerfect  knowledge 
of  the  writings  of  Confucius,  will  find  it  in  the  Latin 
translation  of  Father  Noel,  one  of  the  most  ancient 
missionaries  of  China,  which  was  printed  at  Prague, 
in  the  year  1711. 

We  must  not  conclude  our  account  of  this  celebrat- 
ed philosopher,  without  mentioning  one  most  remark- 
able particular  respecting  him,  viz.  that,  in  spite  of 
all  his  endeavours  to  establish  pure  morality  and  re- 
hgion,  he  was  nevertheless  the  innocent  cause  of  their 
corruption.  It  is  said,  that  when  he  was  compli- 
mented upon  the  excellence  of  his  philosophy,  he 
modestly  replied,  "  that  he  fell  greatly  short  of  the 
most  perfect  degree  of  virtue  ;  but  that  in  the  West 
the  most  Holy  was  to  be  found."  Most  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, who  relate  this,  are  firmly  persuaded,  that 
Confucius  foresaw   the  coming  of  the   Messiah,  and 


102  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

meant  to  predict  it  in  this  short  sentence.  At  all 
events,  it  has  always  made  a  verv  strong  impression 
upon  the  learned  in  China  ;  and,  in  the  66th  year  af- 
ter the  birth  of  Christ,  the  emperor  Monti  sent  am- 
bassadors to  the  West,  with  orders  to  sail  till  they  had 
found  this  Holy  one,  and  to  bring  back  at  least  his 
image  and  his  writings.  Tha  persons  sent  upon  this 
expedition,  not  daring  to  venture  farther,  went  ashore 
upon  a  little  island,  not  f^ir  from  the  Red  Sea,  where 
they  found  the  statue  of  Fohi,  who  had  infected  the 
Indies  with  his  doctrines,  five  hundred  years  before 
the  birth  of  Confucius.  This  they  carried  back  to 
China,  together  with  the  metempsychosis,  and  the 
other  reveries  of  this  philosopher.  The  disciples  of 
Confucius,  at  first,  opposed  these  newly  imported 
doctrines  with  all  the  vigour  imaginable,  inveighing 
vehemently  against  Monti,  who  introduced  them, 
and  denouncing  the  judgment  of  heaven  on  such 
emperors  as  should  support  them.  But  all  their  en- 
deavours were  vain ;  the  torrent  bore  hard  against 
them,  and  the  pure  religion  and  sound  morality  of 
Confucius  were  not  only  corrupted,  but,  in  a  man- 
ner, overwhelmed  by  the  prevailing  idolatries  and  su- 
perstitions, which  were  introduced  by  the  idol  Fohi. 
This  is  now  the  religion  of  the  learned  in  China,  who, 
while  they  pay  homage  to  the  memory  of  Confucius, 
are  far  from  follov\Mng  his  precepts,  or  imitating  the 
innocence  and  sanctity  of  his  life.  They,  however, 
annually  celebrate  a  festival  to  his  honour ;  and  his 
posterity,  even  to  the  present  day,  are  mandarins  by 
birth,  and  have  a  privilege,  in  common  with  the  prin- 
ces of  the  blood,  not  to  pay  tribute. 

COOK,  (Captain-  James)  one  of  the  most  ce-       I 
lebrated  navigators,  whom  the  world  ever  produced,       1 
was  born  at  Marton,  a  village  about   four  miles  from 
Great  Ayton,  in  Yorkshire,  England,  October  27th, 
1728.     His  father,  who  was  only  a  day  labourer, had 


DICTIONARY.  103 

nine  children  ;  from  which,  it  may  be  easily  conceiv- 
ed, that  his  circumstances  were  extremelyindigent. 

To  the  charity  of  Mr.  Skottow,  his  father's  em- 
ployer, James  was  indebted  for  his  school  education, 
which  extended  no  farther  than  reading,  writing  and 
a  few  of  the  first  rules  of  arithmetic.  At  the  age  of 
thirteen,  he  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  shop-keeper, 
at  Snaith,  about  ten  miles  from  Whitby  ;  but  after  a 
servitude  of  a  few  years,  having  contracted  a  very 
strong  propensity  to  the  sea,  his  master  was  willing 
to  indulge  him  in  following  the  bent  of  his  inclination, 
and  gave  him  up  his  indentures.  In  July,  1-746,  he 
bound  himself  as  an  apprentice  to  Messrs.  Walkers, 
of  Whitby,  who  had  several  vessels  in  the  coal  trade; 
and,  after  serving  a  few  years  longer,  in  the  situation 
of  a  common  sailor,  he  was  at  last  raised  to  be  mate 
of  one  of  their  ships. 

Early  in  the  year  1755,  when  hostilities  broke  out 
between  France  and  England,  Cook  entered  on  board 
the  Eagle  of  sixty  guns,  to  which  vessel.  Sir  Hugh 
Palliser  was  soon  after  appointed,  who  soon  distin- 
guished him  as  an  active  and  diligent  seaman.  His 
good  behaviour,  however,  whilst  in  the  coal  trade, 
tended  greatly  to  accelerate  his  promotion  in  the  roy- 
al navy,  as  the  Messrs.  Walkers,  his  former  employ- 
ers, procured  from  influential  persons,  some  letters  of 
recommendation,  which  did  him  great  service.  On 
the  15th  of  May,  1759,  he  obtained  a  master's  war- 
rant for  the  Mercury,  which  was  soon  after  employed 
in  the  faraous  siege  of  Quebec.  During  this  siege, 
a  difficult  and  dangerous  service  was  assigned  him  : 
viz.  to  take  soundings  in  the  channel  of  the  river  St. 
Lawrence,  directly  in  front  of  the  French  fortified 
camp.  This  he  performed  at  the  very  imminent  haz- 
ard of  his  life,  with  which,  indeed,  he  very  narrow- 
ly escaped. 

On  the  22d  September  following,  he  was  appoint- 
ed master  of  the  Northumberland,  then  stationed  at 
Halifax,  where  he  first  read  Euclid,  and  applied  to 


10^  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

astronomy  and  other  branches  of  science.  Early  in 
1763,  when  admiral  (then  captain  Greaves)  was  ap- 
pointed governor  of  Newfoundland,  Mr.  Cook  went 
with  him  to  survey  the  coasts  of  that  island.  At  the 
end  of  the  season,  he  returned  to  England  ;  but  in 
the  beginning  of  1764,  Sir  Hugh  Palliser  being  ap- 
pointed governor  of  Newfoundland  and  Labradore, 
Air.  Cook  accompanied  him,  as  surveyor,  and  con- 
tinued in  that  capacity  till  J 767. 

AVhilstMr.  Cook  remained  on  that  station,  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  exhibiting  publickly  a  specimen  of 
his  progress  in  the  study  of  astronomy,  by  a  short  pa- 
per printed  in  the  57 th  vol.  of  the  Philosophical  Trans- 
actions, entitled  "  An  observation  of  an  eclipse  of 
the  Sun,  at  the  island  of  Newfoundland,  August  5th, 
1766,  with  the  longitude  of  the  place  of  observation 
deduced  from  it."  Some  of  the  most  learned  men  in 
England  compared  Mr.  Cook's  observation  with  one 
made  at  Oxford,  and  found  it  accurately  done  ;  from 
which  time,  he  obtained  the  character  of  an  able 
astronomer. 

In  the  mean  lime,  a  spirit  for  geograpliical  disco- 
veries, which  had  gradually  declined  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  17th  century,  began  to  discover  itself 
anew  in  Great  Britain.  Two  voyages  of  this  kind 
had  been  performed  in  the  rei^n  of  George  II.  with 
a  view  to  discover  a  North  West  passage  through 
Hudson's  bay  to  the  East  Indies.  Two  others  under 
captains  Byron,  WalJis  and  Carteret,  had  been  under- 
taken soon  after  the  conclusion  of  the  peace  in  1763, 
by  order  of  his  present  majesty  ;  and  before  the  re- 
turn of  these  navigators,  who  were  ordered  to  sail 
round  the  w^orld,  another  voyage  was  resolved  on  for 
astronomical  purposes.  It  having  been  calculated, 
that  a  transit  of  Venus  over  the  Sun's  disk  would  hap- 
pen in  1769,  a  memorial  was  presented  to  the  king 
by  the  Royal  Society  ;  in  which  they  set  forth  the 
great  importance  of  making  proper  observations  on 
this  phenomenon,  the  regard,  that  had  been  paid  to 


I 


DICTIONARY.  105 

k(,  by  the  different  courts  of  Europe,  and  intreated^ 
amongst  other  things,  that  a  vessel  might  be  fitted 
out,  at  the  expence  of  government,  for  conveying  pro- 
per persons  to  some  of  the  Friendly  Islands,  in  order 
to  make  the  necessary  observations.  To  this  memo- 
rial,  a  favourable  answer  was  returned,  and  the  En- 
deavour, a  ship  built  for  the  coal  trade,  was  put  jrt 
commission,  and  the  command  of  her  given  to  Mr. 
Cook,  who  was,  upon  this  occasion,  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  a  lieutenant  in  his  majesty's  service.  J3ut  be- 
fore the  vessel  was  ready  to  sail,  captain  AVallis  return- 
ed from  his  voyage,  and  pointed  out  Otaheite  as  a 
place  more  proper  for  the  purpose  of  the  expedition, 
than  that  mentioned  by  the  Royal  Society.  This  al- 
teration being  approved  of,  directions  for  the  purpose, 
were,  accordingly,  given  to  Mr.  Cook,  with  whom 
Mr.  Charles  Green,  who  had  been  assistant  to  Dr. 
Bradley,  in  the  Royal  Observatory,  at  Greenwich, 
was  joined,  in  the  astronomical  part.  In  this  voyage, 
he  was  likewise  accompanied  by  Sir  Joseph  Banks, 
Dr.  Solander,  &c.  On  the  30th  July,  1768,  he  set 
sail  on  his  expedition;  and  on  the  13th  April,  i769, 
arrived  at  Otaheite  ;  where,  on  the  third  of  June,  the 
transit  of  Venus  was  observed  in  different  parts  of  the 
island. 

To  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  that  exact  regard 
to  the  rules  of  justice  and  humanity,  for  which  cap- 
tain Cook  was  so  justly  celebrated,  in  his  behaviour 
towards  the  savage  nations  he  occasionally  met  with, 
we  shall  only  take  notice  of  the  following  rules,  which 
he  drew  up  for  his  ship's  company,  on  his  first  arrival 
at  Otaheite,  and  which  he  took  care  to  have  punctu- 
ally obeyed.  1st.  That  they  should  endeavour  by 
every  fair  means,  to  cultivate  a  friendship  with  the 
natives,  and  to  treat  them  with  all  imaginable  huma- 
nity. 2d.  That  proper  persons  should  be  appointed 
to  treat  with  the  natives  for  provisions,  &c.and  that  no 
other  person  belonging  to  the  ship,  should  do  so  with- 
out  leave.     Although  the  repeated  thefts  of  the  na- 

Vol.  II.  No.  10.  O 


lot)  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

tives,  required  all  the  wisdom  ?.nd  moderation  of  cap* 
tain  Cook,  to  conduct  himself  in  a  proper  manner, 
yet  they  appeared,  in  general,  to  be  friendly  in  their 
dispositions,  and  very  ready  to  supply  the  ship  with 
necessaries,  in  exchange  for  such  things  as  they  want- 
ed, particularly  for  large  nails,  spikes,  axes,  looking- 
glasses  and  beads.  At  last,  after  a  stay  of  three 
months,  when  preparing  to  take  his  leave,  the  most 
disagreeable  adventure  took  place,  which  he  had  hi- 
therto met  with.  This  was  the  desertion  of  two  of 
his  people,  who  having  married  young  women  of  the 
country,  determined  to  take  up  their  residence  in  it. 
!Mr.  Cook  was  now  obliged  to  seize  some  of  their 
chiefs,  and  to  inform  them,  that  they  could  not  obtain 
their  liberty,  until  the  deserters  were  recovered.  This 
at  last  produced  the  desired  effect,  and  on  the  13th 
ot  July,  1769,  Mr.  Cook  set  sail,  along  with  Tupia, 
who  had  formerly  been  the  prime  minister  to  Oberea 
a  princess  of  that  island,  and  a  boy  of  13  years  of 
age,  both  of  whom  were  desirous  of  accompanying 
him  to  England. 

^Vhen  Air  Cook  proceeded  to  visit  others  of  the 
South  Sea  islands,  Tupia  occasionally  served  as  an 
interpreter.  On  his  arrival  in  New  Zealand,  he  found 
the  natives  extremely  hostile.  At  their  very  first 
meeting,  one  of  them  having  threatened  to  dart  his 
lance  into  the  boat,  was  shot  dead  :  Another,  having 
carried  off  a  hanger,  belonging  to  one  of  the  officers, 
was  fired  at  with  sm.all  shot,  and  upon  his  still  refus- 
ing to  restore  it,  was  fired  at  with  ball  and  killed. 
This,  however,  produced  little  effect  upon  the  rest, 
who  offered  to  make  an  attack  upon  them,  till  several 
muskets  were  fired  with  small  shot,  which  wounded 
three  or  four  more.  Next  day,  the  commander  hav- 
ing determined  to  force  some  of  the  natives  on  board, 
in  order  to  conciliate  their  affections,  by  kind  treat- 
ment, directed  his  men  to  follow  two  canoes,  which 
he  perceived  under  way  before  him.  One  made  her 
escape,  but  the  other,  not  observing  the  boats  in  pur- 


DICTIONARY.  107 

suit,  was  overtaken.  Tupia,  whose  language  the 
New  Zealanders  understood,  called  on  them  to  re- 
turn, with  assurances  that  no  hurt  should  be  done 
them  ;  but  they  continued  their  flight  without  mind- 
ing him.  A  musket  was  then  fired  over  their  heads, 
with  a  view  to  intimidate  them  ;  but  upon  this,  they 
began  so  vigorous  an  attack  upon  the  people  in  th>^ 
boats,  that  orders  were  given  to  fire  with  ball,  by 
which  four  out  of  seven,  who  were  in  the  canoe, 
were  killed,  and  theother  three  jumped  into  the  water, 
and  were  taken  on  board. 

This  part  of  Mr.  Cook's  conduct  seems  inconsist- 
ent with  that  humanity,  for  which  he  was  in  general 
so  eminently  distinguished.  He  was  aware  of  the 
censure,  and  makes  the  following  apology:  "  I'hese 
people  certainly  did  not  deserve  death  for  not  choos- 
ing to  confide  in  my  promises,  or  not  consenting  to 
come  on  board  my  boat,  even  if  they  had  apprehend- 
ed no  danger;  but  the  nature  of  my  service  required 
me  to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  their  country,  which  1 
could  no  otherwise  obtain  but  by  forcing  into  it  in  a 
hostile  manner,  or  gaining  admission  through  the  con- 
fidence and  good  will  of  the  people.  I  had  already 
tried  the  power  of  presents  without  effect ;  and  1  was 
now  prompted  by  my  desire  to  avoid  farther  hostilities, 
to  attempt  to  get  some  of  them  on  board,  the  only 
method  we  had  left  of  convincing  them,  that  we  in- 
tended them  no  harm,  and  had  it  in  our  power  to 
contribute  to  their  gratification  and  convenience. 
Thus  far  my  intentions  certainly  were  not  criminal  ; 
and,  though  in  the  contest  which  I  had  not  the  least 
reason  to  expect,  our  victory  might  have  been  com- 
plete, without  so  much  expence  of  life,  yet,  in  such 
situations,  when  the  command  to  fire  has  been  oncct 
given,  no  man  can  pretend  to  refrain  its  excess,  or 
prescribe  its  effect." 

Notwithstanding  the  disaster  just  mentioned,  to 
which  the  three  New  Zealanders,  who  were  taken  on 
board,had  been  witnesses,  they  were  soon  conciliated ; 


108  HEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

but  no  kindness,  which  could  be  shewn  them,  was, 
in  any  degree,  effectual  to  bnng  about  a  reconcilia- 
tion with  the  rest.  On  the  contrary,  they,  from  that 
time,  seem  to  have  manifested  a  more  hostile  beha- 
viour than  formerly  ;  in  consequence  of  which,  ac- 
cording to  Dr.  Hawkesworth^s  account  of  this  voyage, 
a  considerable  number  of  them  perished.  On  these 
melancholy  occasions,  however,  it  is  to  be  remarked, 
to  the  honour  of  captain  Cook,  that  his  humanity  was 
eminently  conspicuous,  beyond  that  of  the  common 
people,  who  uniformly  shewed  as  much  inclination  to 
destroy  the  Indians,  as  a  sportsman  does  to  kill  the 
game  he  pursues. 

Mr.  Cook  having  spent  six  months  in  circumnavi- 
gating and  fully  exploring  the  islands  of  New-Zealand,  | 
dnring  which  time  he  was  often  in  the  most  imminent 
danger  of  being  shipwrecked,  proceeded  from  thence 
towards  New-Holland,  on  the  31st  March,  1770,  and 
came  in  sight  of  Botany-Bay  on  the  28lh  April,  fol- 
lowing. 

The  dangers  they  sustained  in  navigating  round  the 
coast  of  Ntvv-Holland  were  innumerable,  insomuch, 
that  for  nearly  three  months,  they  were  obliged  to 
have  a  man  constantly  in  the  chains,  heaving  the 
lead.  They  were  always  entangled  among  rocks  and 
shoals,  which  could  not  have  failed  to  destroy  a  less 
experienced  navigator ;  and  even  Mr.  Cook,  with 
all  his  sagacity,  could  not  sometimes  have  extricated 
himself,  had  it  not  been  for  the  favourable  interposi- 
tion of  Divine  Providence,  at  some  particular  emer-  - 
gencies,  which  human  penetration  could  neither  have 
foreseen  nor  prevented.  Of  this  we  shall  only  give 
the  following  instance  : — Having,  at  last,  as  they 
thought,  got  saiely  over  the  vast  reefs  of  sunk  rocks, 
with  which  the  coast  of  New-Holland  is  surrounded, 
they  flattered  themselves  that  all  danger  was  past. 
The  remembrance,  however,  of  former  dangers,  in- 
duced them  frequently  to  take  the  precaution  of  sound- 
4iigj  notwithstanding  which,  in  the  latitude  of  14  l''4 


DICTIONARY.  109 

deg,  S.  they  found  themselves,  one  morning,  only 
about  a  mile  distant  from  the  most  hideous  breakers, 
though  the  sea  all  around  was  unfathomable.  Their 
situation  was  rendered  the  more  dreadful  by  its  being 
a  dead  calm,  whilst,  at  the  same  time,  ihey  were"" 
carried  toward  the  rock  with  such  rapidity,  that,  by 
the  time  they  had  got  the  ship's  head  turned,  by  means 
of  the  boats,  she  was  scarcely  an  hundred  yards  dis- 
tant from  it.  Their  only  resource,  then,  was  to  tow 
the  ship,  iF  possible,  out  of  a  situation  so  inexpressi- 
bly dreadful ;  but  all  their  efforts  would  have  been  un- 
successful, had  not  a  breeze  sprung  up,  which,  tlio' 
too  light  to  have  been  observed  at  any  other  time,  was 
found  to  second  their  efforts  so  effectually,  that  ih.e 
bhip  began  to  move  perceptibly  from  the  reef  in  an 
oblique  direction.  During  the  time  which  this  breeze 
lasted,  which  was  not  more  tiian  ten  minutes,  they 
had  made  a  considerable  way  ;  but  a  dead  calm  suc- 
ceeding, they  began  to  lose  ground,  and,  in  a  little 
time,  were  driven  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the 
rocks  :  a  small  openmg  was  now  perceived  in  the 
reef,  to  which  the  ship  was  directed  by  every  possible 
means,  and  a  light  breeze  happening  to  spring  up  at 
that  very  instant,  they  were  hurried  through  by  Tne 
rapility  of  the  current,  which,  had  it  not  been  for 
th:.>  opening,  would  undoubtedly  have  dashed  them 
to  pieces  against  the  rocks. 

From  the  time  they  quitted  the  coast  of  New- Hol- 
land, till  their  arrival  at  Batavia,  on  the  iOtli  Octo- 
ber, 1770,  our  navigators  met  with  nothing  very  re- 
markable. They  were  obliged  to  stay  for  bOiiiC  lime 
at  this  place  to  repair  their  vessel,  wliich  was  almost 
reduced  to  a  mere  wreck  ;  during  whieh  tin.e,  they 
were,  likewise,  excessively  annoyed  by  siekness, 
w^hich  obliged  them  to  remain  much  longer  than  ihey 
would  otherwise  have  done :  and  it  is  woiihy  of  notice, 
that  every  one  of  the  crew  was  ill,  excepting  the  saii- 
maker,  an  old  man  between  seventy  and  eighly  years 
of  age,  who  regularly  got  drunk  every  ni^ht,     Poor 


no  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

Tupla,  with  his  boy,  fell  sacrifices  to  the  unhealthi* 
ness  of  the  climate,  as  well  as  the  surgeon,  three 
seamen  and  Mr.  Green's  servant.  Nor  did  the  evil 
stop  here,  for  in  their  passage  to  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  they  lost  no  less  than  twenty  seamen,  and  pas- 
sengers, amongst  whom  was  the  jolly  old  sail-maker, 
w^ho  could  now  hold  out  no  longer.  These  unfortu- 
nate events  probably  made  a  considerable  impression 
on  Mr  Cook's  mind  ;  and,  perhaps,  induced  him  to 
direct  his  attention  to  those  methods  of  preserving  the 
health  of  seamen,  which  he  afterwards  put  in  execu- 
tion with  so  much  success.  After  touching  at  St. 
Helena,  they  continued  their  voyage  for  England, 
where  they  arrived  on  the  12th  June,  1771,  after  hav- 
ing been  absent  almost  three  years,  during  which 
time,  he  experienced  every  danger  to  which  a  voyage 
of  such  a  length  is  incident,  and  in  which  he  made 
discoveries  equal  to  those  of  all  the  navigators  of 
Europe,  from  the  time  of  Columbus  to  the  present 
day.  On  this  occasion,  his  majesty  testified  his  ap- 
probation of  Mr.  Cook's  conduct,  by  immediately  ap- 
pointing him  a  captain  in  the  navy. 

Captain  Cook  was  not  allowed  to  remain  long  in- 
active. The  existence  of  a  Southern  continent  in  the 
unexplored  part  of  the  ocean  had  long  been  a  pre- 
vailing idea,  and  Mr.  Dalrymple  had  renewed  the 
attention  of  the  public  towards  the  question,  by  his 
historical  collection  of  voyages  to  tho  Pacific  ocean, 
])ublished  in  two  quarto  volumes,  one  in  1770,  the 
other  in  1771.  To  determine  the  matter  finally.  Cap- 
tain Cook  was  again  set  out ;  but  the  object  of  this 
voyage  was  not  merely  to  settle  the  question  just  men- 
tioned, but  to  extend  the  geography  of  the  globe  to 
its  utmost  limits :  and,  that  nothing  might  be  omitted, 
which  could  facilitate  the  enterprize,  two  ships 
were  provided,  furnished  with  every  necessary,  which 
could  be  supposed  to  contribute  to  the  success  of  the 
undertaking.  The  first  of  these  ships  was  the  Re- 
solution, of  462  tons  and  118  men,  commanded  by 


BICTIONAay.  Ill 

Captain  Cook  ;  and  the  latter  the  Adventure,  of  SS6 
tons  and  81  men,  comanded  by  Mr.  Tobias  Fur- 
neaux. 

'  Both  these  sailed  from  Ecgland,  on  the  13th  of 
July,  1772,  and  arrived  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
on  the  30th  October,  following.  They  departed 
from  thence,  on  the  22d  of  November,  and  from 
that  time,  until  the  17th  January  1773,  continued 
endeavouring  to  discover  the  supposed  continent ; 
when  they  were  obliged  to  relinquic^h  the  design,  ob- 
serving the  whole  sea,  towards  the  South,  covered 
with  vast  bodies  of  ice,  through  which  there  seemed 
no  possibility  of  finding  a  passage.  Mr.  Cook,  how- 
ever, proceeded  so  far  as  to  convince  him,  that,  if 
such  a  continent  existed,  as  that  which  he  was  in 
quest  of,  it  must  be  within  the  polar  circle,  where 
the  sea  is  so  incumbered  with  ice,  that  the  coast  must 
be  inaccessible ;  and  that  such  lands  as  lie  to  the 
Southward  of  his  discoveries  can  never  be  explored. 
He  then  proceeded  to  the  South  seas,  and  after  sur- 
veying many  countries,  hitherto  little  or  not  known, 
returned  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  21st  March, 
1775,  and  from  thence  to  England,  on  the  SOth  July 
following ;  having,  during  three  years  and  eighteen 
days,  in  which  time  he  performed  the  voyage,  lost 
but  one  man  by  sickness,  in  his  own  ship,  although 
he  had  navigated  throughout  all  the  climates  from  fif- 
ty-two degrees  North,  to  seventy  one  degrees  of  South 
latitude,  with  a  company  of  one  hundred  and  eigh- 
teen men. 

The  relation  of  this  vovage  was  given  to  the  pub- 
lic by  captain  Cook  himself,  and  by  Mr.  George  Fors- 
ter,  son  of  Dr.  Forster,  both  of  whom  government 
had  appointed  to  accompany  him,  for  the  purpose  of 
making  observations  on  such  natural  productions  as 
might  be  found  in  the  course  of  the  navigation.  The 
account  drawn  up  by  the  captain  himself,  sufficiently 
shews,  that  though  his  early  opportunities  for  literary 

improvement  had  been  but  small,  he  had,  by  his  own 


il'3  NEW  EIOGRAPHICAt 

industry,  attained  to  such  a  proficiency  m  general 
literature,  as  to  be  able  to  express  himself  with  clear- 
ness and  propriety,  and  thus  became  respectable  as 
th^  narrator,  as  well  as  the  performer  of  great  ac- 
tions. 

The  want  of  success,  which  attended  captain 
Cook's  attempt  to  discover  a  Southern  continent,  did 
not  prevent  another  plan  from  being  resolved  on. 
Geographical  knowledge  had  of  lat^  been  greatly  ex- 
tended, but  still  there  were  some  points  in  that  science, 
which  had  very  much  engaged  the  public  attention, 
and  were  indeed  of  such  importance,  as  to  become  a 
national  concern.  These  were  to  discover  the  con- 
nection between  Arnerica  and  Asia,  and  to  deter- 
mine, whether  there  were  not  a  possibility  of  short- 
ening the  passage  to  the  East  Indies  by  sailing  round 
the  Northern  parts  of  the  continents  of  Europe  and 
Asia.  Many  attempts  had,  indeed,  been  already 
made,  by  various  navigators  of  different  nations,  but 
all  of  them  having  failed,  left  the  point  still  undeter- 
mined. The  dangers,  which  captain  Cook  had  twice 
braved  and  escaped  from,  would  have  exempted  him 
from  being  solicited  a  third  time,  to  venture  his  per- 
son in  unknown  countries,  amongst  desert  islands,  in- 
hospitable climates,  and  in  the  midst  of  savages  ; 
but,  on  his  opinion  being  asked,  concerning  the  per- 
son who  would  be  most  proper  to  execute  this  design, 
his  intrepid  spirit  and  inquisitive  mind,  induced  him 
once  more  to  offer  his  services,  and  they  were  accept- 
ed without  hesitation.  Tie,  accordingly  prepared  for 
the  voyage  with  the  utmost  alacrity,  and  set  sail  on 
the  12th  July,   1776. 

A  few  months  after  his  departure  from  England,  the 
Royal  Society  voted  him  the  gold  medal,  for  the  best 
experimental  paper  that  had  appeared  throughout  the 
year.  It  was  the  custom  of  Sir  John  Pringle,  at  the 
annual  delivery  of  this  medal,  to  make  an  elaborate 
discourse,  containing  the  history  of  that  part  ot  science, 
for  which  the  medal  was  given  ;  and  as  the  subject  ot 


DICTIONARV.  lis 

captain  Cook's  paper,  the  means  of  preserving  the 
health  of  seamen,  was  analagous  to  the  profession  o£ 
Sir  John  as  a  physician,  he  had  the  greater  opportu- 
nity of  displaying  his  eloquence  on  the  occasion.  In 
this  speech  he  remarked,  that  the  society  had  never 
more  meritoriously  bestovi^ed  the  medal,  than  on  the 
person  who  now  received  it,  "  who  had  not  only  made 
the  most  extensive,  but  the  most  instructive  voyages; 
who  had  not  only  discovered,  but  surveyed  vast  tracts 
of  new  coasts  ;  who  had  dispelled  the  lilus'on  of  a 
Terra  Amtraiis  Incognita,  and  fixed  the  bounds  of 
the  habicable  earth,  as  well  as  those  of  the  navigable 
ocean,  in  the  Southern  hemisphere  j  but  however  am- 
ple a  field  for  praise  those  circuiiistances  would  af- 
ford, it  was  a  nobler  motive  that  had  prompted  the 
society  to  notice  captain  Cook,  in  the  honourable 
manner  v/hich  had  occasioned  his  address."  After 
descanting  on  the  means  used  on  the  voyage,  to  pre- 
serve the  lives  of  the  sailors,  he  thus  concluded  his 
discourse  :  "  If  Rome  decreed  the  civic  crown  to  him, 
who  saved  the  life  of  a  single  citizen,  what  wreaths 
are  due  to  that  man,  who,  having  himself  ^saved 
many,  perpetuates,  in  your  transactions,  the  means 
by  which  Britain  may  now,  on  the  most  distant 
voyages,  save  numbers  of  her  intrepid  sons,  her  mar- 
iners, who,  braving  every  danger,  have  so  liberally 
contributed  to  the  fame,  to  the  opulence  and  to  the 
maritime  empire  of  their  country."  It  will,  however, 
give  pain  to  every  sensible  mind  to  reflect,  that 
this  honourable  testimony  to  the  memory  of  our  gal- 
lant commander  never  came  to  his  knowledge. 

Cook's  last  voyage  served  to  prove  that  there  was  no 
practicable  passage,  between  the  Atlantic  and  Pa- 
cific oceans,  towards  the  North;  but  on  his  return  it 
unfortunately  happened  that  he  was  killed  in  an  affray, 
with  the  natives  of  Owyhee,  one  of  the  Sandwich 
islands,  Feb.    14th,   1119. 

So  highly  important  to  the  world,  was  captain 
Cook's  enterpnze  deemed,  that,  about  the  time  of 

Vol.  II.  No.  10.  P 


114  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

his  death,  a  letter  was  issued  by  M.  de  Sartine,  se- 
cretary to  the  marine  department  of  France,  and 
sent  to  all  the  commanders  of  French  ships,  directing 
that  notwithstanding  the  existing  state  of  hostilities 
between  Great  Britain  and  France,  captain  Cook 
should  be  treated  with  the  same  respect  as  if  he  be- 
longed to  a  neutral  and  allied  power.  This  humane 
and  generous  proceeding,  with  respect  to  France, 
originated  with  M.  Turgot;  but  the  thought  is  said 
to  have  been  first  started  by  Doctor  Franklin.  This 
much  is  at  least  certain,  that  the  doctor,  while  am- 
bassador at  that  court  from  the  United  States,  wrote 
a  circular  letter  to  the  American  naval  commanders, 
to  the  same  purport  of  that  which  we  have  already 
mentioned. 

Captain  Cook  was  a  man  of  plain  address  and  ap- 
pearance, but  well  looked,  and  upwards  of  six 
feet  high.  In  his  countenance  he  appeared  rather 
austere,  but  it  was  impossible  for  any  man  to  exceed 
him  in  humanity,  as  is  evident  from  the  whole  tenor  of 
his  conduct.  The  perseverance  with  which  he  pursued 
everyobject,  which  happened  to  be  pointed  out  to  him 
as  duty,  was  unequalled.  Nothing  could  ever  divert 
him  from  what  he  had  once  undertaken,  and  he  per- 
severed in  the  midst  of  dangers  and  difficulties,  which 
would  have  disheartened  persons  of  very  considerable 
strength  and  firmness  of  mind.  He  was  master  of 
himself  on  every  trying  occasion,  and  the  greater  the 
emergency,  the  greater  always  appeared  his  calmness 
and  recollection.  That  he  possessed  genius  in  an 
eminent  degree,  cannot  be  questioned;  for  his  inven- 
tion was  ready,  and  capable  not  only  of  suggesting 
the  most  noble  objects  of  pursuit,  but  the  most  pro- 
per methods  of  attaining  them.  Kis  knowledge  of 
his  own  profession  could  not  be  surpassed,  and  to 
this  he  added  a  very  considerable  proficiency  in  the 
other  sciences,  particularly  in  astronomy.  He  was 
an  excellent  husband  and  father,  sincere  and  steady 
in  his  friendships,  and  possessed  of  a  general  sobriety 


DICTIONARY.  115 

and  virtue  of  character.  He  was  likewise  distinguish- 
ed by  that  simplicity  of  manners,  which  is  almost  in- 
variably the  attendant  of  great  men.  With  all  these 
amiable  qualities,  the  captain  was  occasionally  sub- 
ject to  an  hastiness  of  temper,  which  has,  perhaps, 
been  exaggerated  by  some,  who  were  not  his  friends  : 
but  even  these,  when  taking  a  general  view  of  his 
character,  are  obliged  to  acknowledge,  that  he  was 
undoubtedly,  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  his  age. 

We  shall  conclude  this  article,  by  observing,  that 
the  death  of  Captain  Cook  was  universally  regretted, 
not  only  in  Great  Britain,  but  in  the  United  States  of 
America,  and  throughout  every  part  of  Europe ;  and 
that  his  Majesty,  in  consideration  of  his  important 
services,  settled  a  pension  of  888  dollars  per  annum, 
on  his  widow  during  her  life,  and  1 10  dollars  a  year 
on  each  of  his  three  sons. 

COPERNICUS,  (Nicola us)  an  eminent  astro- 
nomer, was  born  at  Thorn,  in  Prussia,  January  10th, 
1472.  After  being  instructed  in  the  Greek  and  La- 
tin languages  at  home,  he  was  sent  to  Cracovia, 
where  he  studied  philosophy  and  physic.  His  genius, 
in  the  mean  time,  was  naturally  turned  to  mathema- 
tics, which  he  pursued  through  all  its  various  branch- 
es. He  set  out  for  Italy,  when  he  was  about  23 
years  of  age,  but  staid  some  time  at  Bononia,  for  the 
sake  of  being  with  Dominicus  Maria,  the  celebrated 
philosopher  of  that  place,  whom  he  attended,  as  an 
Assistant,  in  making  his  observations.  From  thence 
he  passed  to  Rome,  where  he  had  no  sooner  arrived, 
than  he  was  appointed  professor  of  mathematics, 
which  he  taught,  with  much  celebrity,  for  a  long 
time,  in  that  city.  He  also  made  some  astronomical 
observations  there,  about  the  year  1500. 

Returning  to  his  own  country,  some  years  after,  he 
began  tcf  apply  his  vast  knowledge  in  mathematics 
to  correct  the  system  of  astronomy,  which  then  pre- 


116  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

vailed;  for  he  could  not  persuade  himself,  that  the 
vast  machine  of  the  universe,  formed  by  an  all-wise 
and  all-powerful  Bei;ig,  was  so  embarrassed,  and 
irregular,  as  that  system  supposed.  He,  therefore^ 
set  himself  to  examine  the  different  hypotheses,  which 
philosophers  had  invented  for  the  solution  of  the  ce- 
lestial phenomena,  and  to  try  if  a  more  symmetrical 
order,  and  constitution  of  the  world  could  be  disco- 
vered, and  a  more  just  and  exquisite  harmony  in  its 
motions  established,  than  that  which  the  astronomers 
of  these  times  so  easily  admitted.  But  of  all  their  hy- 
potheses, none  pleased  him  so  well  as  that  of  Pytha- 
goras, which  made  the  sun  the  centre  of  the  system, 
and  the  earth  to  move,  not  only  round  the  sun,  but 
round  its  own  axis  also.  He  thought  he  discerned 
much  beautiful  order  and  proportion  in  this,  and  that 
all  that  embarrassment  and  perplexity  from  cycles 
and  eccentrics,  which  attended  the  Ptolemaic  hypo- 
thesis, would  here  be  entirely  removed. 

This  system  then,  he  began  to  consider  and  to 
■write  upon,  when  he  was  about  thirty-five  years  of 
age.  He  employed  himself  in  contemplating  the 
phenomena  carefully ;  in  making  mathematical  cal- 
culations, in  examining  the  observations  of  the  an- 
cients, and  in  making  new  ones  of  his  own  ;  and 
after  more  than  twenty  years  chiefly  spent  in  this 
manner,  he  brought  his  scheme  to  perfection,  and 
established  that  system  of  the  world,  which  has  since 
gone  by  his  name,  and  is  now  universally  received. 
This  he  performed,  in  a  work  entitled,  **  De  revolu- 
tionibus  orbium  celestium."  Of  the  revolutions  of 
the  Celestial  orbs.  This  work,  however,  had  no 
sooner  made  its  appearance,  than  his  system  was  con- 
sidered as  a  most  dangerous  heresy,  in  consequence 
of  which,  he  was  thrown  into  prison,  by  order  ot  Pope 
"Urban  VIII.  nor  was  he  enlarged  till  he  recanted  his 
opinion  :  that  is,  till  he  renounced  the  evidence  of 
his  senses.  He  died  24th  May,  1543,  in  the  70ta 
year  of  his  age. 


DICTIONARY.  117 

This  extraordinary  man  was  not  only  the  greatest 
of  astronomers,  but  a  perfect  master  of  the  Greek 
and  Latin  languages,  to  all  which  he  added  the  great- 
est piety  and  innocence  of  manners. 

COOPER,  (Anthony  Ashley)  earl  of  Shaftesbu- 
ry, the  celebrated  author  of  the  "  Characteristics," 
was  born  in  London,  in  1671,  in  the  house  of  his 
grandfather  Anthony,  first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  who 
was,  at  that  time,  lord  chancellor  of  England.  That 
nobleman  was  so  exceedingly  fond  of  him,  from  his 
birth,  that  he  undertook  the  care  of  his  education 
himself;  and,  in  teaching  him  the  learned  languages 
pursued  ahnost  the  same  method  as  Montaigne's  fa- 
ther did  in  teaching  his  son  Latin  ;  that  is,  he  placed 
a  person  about  him,  who  was  so  thorouglily  versed  in 
the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues,  as  to  speak  either  of 
them  with  the  greatest  fluency.  By  this  means  the 
young  gentleman  made  so  great  a  progress,  that  he 
could  read  both  these  languages  with  ease,  when  but 
1 1  years  of  age. 

He  began  his  travels  in  1686,  and  spent  a  consi- 
derable time  in  Italy,  where  he  acquired  a  great 
knowledge  in  the  pohte  arts,  which  appears  so  emi- 
nently conspicuous  through  all  his  writings.  Here- 
turned  to  Engkmd,  in  1689,  and  wilhinafewyears,  was 
elected  a  member  of  parliament,  where  he  soon  had 
an  opportunity  of  shewing  that  spirit  of  liberty,  which 
he  maintained  to  the  end  of  his  life,  and  by  which 
he  uniformly  directed  his  conduct  on  all  occasions. 
It  was  the  bringing  in  and  promoting  "  The  act 
for  granting  counsel  to  prisoners  in  cases  of  high  trea- 
son." This  he  justly  considered  as  highly  important, 
and  had  prepared  a  speech  in  its  behalf;  but  when  he 
stood  up  in  the  house  of  commons,  he  was  so  intimi- 
dated, that  he  was  unable  to  proceed.  The  hou:^'/, 
after  giving  him  a  little  time  to  recover  his  confusion^ 
called  for  him  to  go  on,  when  he  proceeded  to  ihi^ 


IIB  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

effect :  ^^  If  I,  Sir,"  (addressing  himself  to  the  speak- 
er) who  ris-e  only  to  give  my  opinion  on  the  bill  now 
depending,  am  so  confounded,  that  I  am  unable  to 
express  the  least  of  what  I  proposed  to  say,  what 
must  the  condition  o^  that  man  be,  who,  without 
sny  assistance,  is  pleading  ivr  his  life,  and  under  ap- 
prehensions of  being  deprived  of  it."  During  this 
and  the  other  sessions,  in  \vhich  he  continued  in  the 
house  of  commons,  he  persevered  in  the  same  way, 
always  heartily  concurring  in  every  motion  for  the 
iurther  security  of  liberty;  but  finding,  that,  by  a 
constant  attendance  on  the  business  of  the  house,  his 
constitution,  which  was  naturally  very  weakly,  be- 
came greatly  impaired,  he  was  obliged  to  decline 
coming  again  into  parliament,  after  the  year  1698. 

He  then  returned  to  Holland,  where,  that  he 
might  be  less  interrupted  in  the  prosecution  of  his 
studies,  he  is  said  to  have  concealed  his  uame  :  but 
after  about  twelve  months  residence  in  that  country, 
he  had  the  niortincation  to  find  that  an  imperfect 
edition  of  his  "  Enquiry  into  Virtue"  had  been' pub- 
lished, in  London.  It  had  been  surreptitiously  taken 
irom  a  rough  draught,  which  he  had  sketched,  when 
he  was  no  more  than  twenty  years  of  age.  This 
treatise  he  afterwards  completed,  and  published  in 
the  second  volume  of  his  "Characteristics." 

Soon  after  he  returned  to  England,  when  upon  the 
death  of  his  father,  he  became  Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 
About  the  year  1705,  some  pretended  French  prophets 
having  by  their  enthusiastic  extravagance,  made  a 
great  disturbance  throughout  England,  there  were 
different  opinions  with  respect  to  the  methods  of  sup- 
pressing them,  and  some  advised  a  prosecution ;  but 
as  lord  Shaftesbury  wisely  apprehended,  that  perse- 
cution would  tend  much  more  to  inflame  than  to  cure 
the  disease,  it  gave  rise  to  his  "  Letter  concerning 
enthusiasm,"  which  he  published  in  1708.  His"  Mo- 
ralist, a  Philosophical  Rhapsody,"  being  a  recital  of 
certain  conversations,  on  natural  and  moral   subjects 


BICTIONARY.  119 

appeared  In  January  1709;  and,  in  the  May  following, 
his*'Sensus  communis,  or  an  Essay  upon  the  freedom 
of  wit  and  humour."  In  1710,  his  "  Soliloquy,  or  ad- 
vice to  an  author,"  was  published ;  but  whilst  he  was 
thus  employed  in  literary  composition,  his  health  de- 
clined so  fast,  that  it  was  recommended  to  him  to 
seek  assistance  from  a  warmer  climate.  He  set  out, 
therefore,  for  Naples,  in  July,  171 1  ;  but  his  removal 
thither  was  of  no  service  to  him  ;  he  died  on  the  15th 
February,   1713. 

The  only  pieces  which  he  finished,  after  he  canie 
to  Naples,  were,  '•  The  judgment  of  Hercules,"  and 
the  "Letter  concerning  Design."  In  the  three  vo- 
lumes of  his  "  Characteristics  of  men,  manners,  opin- 
ions and  times,"  he  completed  the  whole  of  his  works, 
which  he  intended  for  the  public  eye;  yet,  in  1716, 
some  of  his  letters  were  printed  under  the  title  of 
"  Several  Leters,  written  by  a  noble  lord,  to  a  young 
man  of  the  University;"  and  in  1721,  Toland  pub- 
lished "  Letters  from  the  late  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  to 
Robert  Molesworth,  Esq." 

Though  lord  Shaftesbury,  in  general,  treated  the 
clerical  order  with  great  severity,  yet  he  is  said  to 
have  had  an  esteem  for  such  of  the  English  divines, 
sis  explained  Christianity  in  a  manner  conformably  to 
his  own  principles;  one  remarkable  instance  of  which 
was  displayed  in  his  writing  a  preface  to  a  volume  of 
Dr.  Whichcots*  Sermons,  published  in  1698.  In  his 
letters  to  a  young  man  of  the  University,  he  speaks 
of  Bishop  Burnet  and  Dr.  Hoadicy,  in  terms  of  great 
applause;  and  has  done  justice  to  the  merits  of  Tillot- 
son,  Barrow,  Chillingviorth  and  Hammond,  as  the 
chief  pillars  of  the  church,  against  fanaticism.  But 
whatever  regard,  his  lordship  might  have  had  for 
some  of  the  Divines,  it  was  to  the  writings  of  anti- 
quity, that  his  ad.niration  was  chiefly  directed.  These 
were  the  consinnt  objects  of  his  study,  and  from 
them  he  formed  iiis  system  of  philosophy. 
Of  lord  Shaftesbury's  character  as  a  writer,   differ- 


120  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

cnt  representations  have  been  given.  Lord  Monbod- 
do,  one  of  his  greatest  admirers,  in  speaking  of  his 
"  Rhapsodist"  in  particular,  does  not  hesitate  to  pro- 
nounce it  not  only  the  best  dialogue  in  the  English 
language,  but  the  sublimcst  pb.iicsophv;  and  says, 
that,  if  we  will  join  with  it  his  "  Inquiry,"  it  is  the 
completest  system,  which  we  have,  eitl^er  of  morali- 
ty or  theology.  He  likewise  considers  it  as  a  niaster- 
piece,  in  point  of  style  and  composition. 

Even  several  of  the  authors,  who  have  difting^jish- 
ed  themselves  by  their  direct  opposition  to  many  c.'his 
sentimentr.,  have  nevertheless  mixed  no  small  degree 
of  applause  with  their  censures.  In  particular,  Mr. 
Ealguy  in  his  "•  Letter  to  a  Deist,'*  says  ''  The  purity 
and  politeness  of  his  style,  and  the  delicacy  of  his 
sentiments  are  and  must  be  acknowledn:ed  bv  all  rea« 
dcrs  of  taste  and  sincerity.  But  nevertheless  as  his 
beauties  are  not  easy  to  be  overlooked,  so  neither  are 
his  blemishes.  His  works  appear  to  be  stained  with 
so  many  gross  errors,  and  his  fine  thoughts  are  so  of- 
ten mingled  with  absurdities,  that  however,  we  may 
be  charmed  with  the  one,  we  are  forced  to  condemn 
the  other." 

But  whatever  praise  may  be  bestowed  on  the  ge- 
nius and  philosophy  of  lord  Shaftesburv,  the  grand 
point,  in  which  he  hath  rendered  himself  justly  ob- 
noxious to  the  friends  of  religion,  is  his  having  inters- 
persed through  the  **' Characteristics"  a  number  of 
insinuations,  which  appear  unfavourable  to  the  cause 
of  revelation  ;  and,  though  his  preface  to  "Whichcot^s 
sermons,  and  his  "  Letters  to  a  Student  at  the  L^ni- 
versity"  have  been  adduced  as  a  proof  of  his  Chris- 
tianity, yet  there  are  so  many  sceptical  passages 
in  his  writings,  that  we  do  not  hesitate  to  pro- 
nounce him  a  doubter  at  least,  if  not  an  shsohite  un- 
believer. Thus  far,  however,  may  be  fairly  conced- 
ed, that  in  his  general  principles,  he  appears  much 
less  exceptionable  than  numbers  who  have  appeared 
in  the  character  of  deists,  the  whole  bent  of  his  phi- 


I 


dictionarV.^  121 

iosophy  being  to  inculcate  these  two  principles,  viz. 
tbar  there  is  a  Providence,  w^hich  administers  and  con- 
sults for  the  whole,  to  the  absolute  exclusion  of  gener- 
al evil  and  disorder,  and  that  man  is  made  by  that 
Providence,  a  political  or  social  animal,  whase  con- 
stitution can  only  find  its  true  or  natural  end,  in  the 
pursuit  and  exercise  of  the    moral  and  social  virtue^s. 
The  style  of  lord  Shaftesbury's  compositions  is  also 
a  point,  on  which  there   is  some  diversity  of  senti- 
ment; but  for  the  fullest  and  most  judicious  criticism, 
which    has   appeared   upon  that  subject,   we  shall 
refer  the  reader  to  Dr,  Blair's  lectures  on  rhetoric  and 
belks  lettres, 

CORDE,  (Charlotte)  was  born  in  the  depart- 
ment of  Calvados  in  France,  about  the  year  1774. 
During  a  part  of  the  French  Revolution,  she  had  been 
in  habits  of  confidence  with  many  of  the  deputies  of 
the  legislature,  and  her  spirit  was  animated  with  the 
greatest  devotion  to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  of  her 
country. 

The  factions,  which  prevailed  in  the  convention, 
had  excited  her  abhorrence,  and  amongst  those  whom 
she  held  most  odious,  was  the  infamous  Marat,  w^hosa 
sanguinary  proscriptions,  denunciations  and  maxims, 
had  filled  her  soul  with  a  determined  resolution  for 
his  destruction.  She  accordingly  left  her  native  home  in 
the  beginning  of  July  J  793,  with  an  express  determi- 
nation of  assassinating  him,  which  she  effected  on  the 
evening  of  the  day  following,  after  conversing  with 
him  on  some  political  topics,  by  stabbing  him  to  the 
heart  with  a  dagger. 

Having  perpetrated  this  deed,  she  walked  out  of 
the  house  with  the  most  perfect  composure,  and  was 
soon  after  arrested.  When  brought  before  a  magis- 
trate, she  looked  on  him  with  a  smile  of  the  most  in 
dignant  and  contemptuous  mockery,  and  declared, 
that  she  gloried  in  releasing  her  country  from  a  moa- 

Vol.  11.  No.  II.  Q 


122  ITEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ster;  that  she  had  fixed  her  mind  on  his  death,  as  ne- 
cessary to  its  salvation;  that  there  were  others,  who 
should  also  perish,  had  she  the  power,  but  as  she 
knew  she  could  sacrifice  but  one,  she  was  determin- 
ed to  begin  with  the  most  execrable  of  them  all.  She 
even  spoke  at  large  in  justification  of  the  deed,  as 
necessary  to  the  honour  and  happiness  of  her  country^, 
and  glorious  to  herself;  that  it  was  due  to  justice  to 
rid  the  world  of  a  sanguinary  monster,  whose  doc- 
trines were  framed  for  indiscriminate  destruction,  and 
who  was  already  condemned  by  the  public  opinion. 

Her  deportment,  during  her  trial,  was  modest  and 
dignified.  There  was  so  engaging  a  softness  in  her 
countenance,  that  it  was  diffxult  to  conceive  how  she 
could  have  armed  herself  with  sufficient  intrepidity  to 
perpetrate  such  a  deed,  or  to  sustain  herself  with 
so  great  collection  on  the  verge  of  death.  She  heard 
her  sentence  pronounced  with  attention  and  compo- 
sure, and  left  the  court  with  the  greatest  serenity,  to 
prepare  for  the  last  scene.  When  on  the  scaffold, 
she  behaved  with  the  same  fortitude,  which  she  had 
uniformly  displayed  from  the  commencem.ent  of  this 
extraordinary  transaction.  As  the  executioner  was 
attempting  to  tie  her  feet  to  the  plank,  she  resisted 
from  an  apprehension  that  he  meant  to  insult  her; 
but  upon  his  explaininghimself,  she  submitted  with  a 
smile;  and  her  head  was  immediately  after -severed 
from  her  body.  The  author,  from  whom  we  have 
abstracted  this  article,  speaks  of  her  conduct,  in  terms 
of  the  highest  applause.  For  our  part,  though  we 
are  inclined  to  believe,  that  she  performed  a  service 
to  her  country,  by  ridding  it  of  a  detetestable  mon- 
ster, yet  we  can,  by  no  means,  approve  of  the  means 
by  which  she  accomplished  it,  for  we  shall  ever  con- 
sider assassination  as  a  crime  of  the  deepest  liue;  and 
we  conceive  it  to  be  still  more  horrid,  when  per^ 
getrated  by  the  delicate  hand  of  a  female. 


1>ICTI0NARY.  123 

CORNARO,  (Lewis)  a  noble  Venetian,  memo- 
tdhle  for  having  lived  healthful  and  active  to  above 
100  years  of  age,  by  a  rigid  course  of  temperance. 
Amongst  other  performances,  he  wrote  a  treatise 
which  has  been  translated  into  English,  and  often 
printed,  entitled  "  Sure  and  certain  methods  of  at- 
taining a  long  and  healthful  life,"  of  which  we  shall 
here  give  some  account,  not  only  because  it  illustrates 
the  lite  and  character  of  Cornaro,  but  may  also  be  of 
use  to  some  people,  who  place  the  chief  happiness  of 
life  in^he  pleasures  of  the  table. 

He  was  moved  to  compose  this  little  piece,  at  the 
request  of  some  young  men,  who,  seeing  him  then 
in  his  81st  year,  in  a  fine  florid  state  of  health,  were 
desirous  to  know,  by  what  means  he  preserved  a 
sound  mind  in  a  sound  body,  to  so  advanced  an  age. 
He  describes  to  them,  therefore,  his  whole  manner 
of  living.  He  t<:lls  them,  that,  in  his  youth,  he  had 
been  of  a  weak  constitution,  and  that,  by  irregular 
indulgence,  he  had  reduced  himself,  when  about  40 
years  of  age,  to  the  brink  of  the  grave,  at  which  ex- 
tremity, he  was  told  by  his  physicians,  that  he  had 
no  chance  for  his  life,  unless  he  should  forthwith  be- 
come sober  and  temperate;  that  he  had  at  first,  found 
it  extremely  difficult  to  comply  with  the  regimen  pre- 
scribed, but  driven  by  the  necessity  of  the  case,  and 
exerting  resolutely  all  the  powers  of  his  understand- 
ing, he  at  last  became  confirmed  in  a  settled  and  un- 
interrupted course  of  temperance,  in  consequence  of 
which,  all  his  disorders  had  left  him  in  less  than  an 
year,  and  that  from  that  time  he  had  enjoyed  an  un- 
interrupted state  of  good  health. 

To  shew  what  security  a  lite  of  temperance  affords 
against  the  ill  eflfects  of  hurts,  and  disasters,  he  re- 
lates an  accident  which  befel  him,  when  he  was  very 
old.  One  day  being  out  in  his  carriage,  he  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  overturned  and  dragged  by  the  horses 
a  considerable  way  upon  the  ground.  His  head,  his 
arms,  and  whole  body  were  very  much  bruised,  and 


l2-i  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

one  of  bis  ankles  put  out  of  joint.  The  pFiysicia-nflr, 
seeing  him  so  grievously  mauled,  concluded  it  to  h& 
impossible  for  him  to  live  three  days;  in  this,  however^ 
they  were  greatly  mistaken;  for,  by  pursuing  the 
mode  of  treatment  usually  observed  in  such  cases,  he 
presently  recovered  and  arrived  at  his  former  stability 
and  firmness. 

Some  sensualists  had  objected  to  his  manner  of 
living,  and,  in  order  to  evince  the  reasonableness  of 
their  own,  had  urged,  that  it  was  not  worth  while  to 
mortify  one's  appetites  at  such  a  rate  for  the  sake  of 
"being  old,  since  all  that  was  life,  after  the  age  of  65, 
could  not  be  properly  called  a"  living,  but  a  dead  life/* 
*'  Now,  says  he,  to  shew  these  gentlemen  how  much 
they  are  mistaken,  1  will  briefly  run  over  the  satisfac- 
tions and  pleasures,  which  I  myself  enjoy  in  this  83d 
year  of  my  age.  In  the  first  place,  I  am  always  well, 
and  so  active  withal,  that  I  can  with  ease,  mount  a 
horse  upon  a  flat,  and  walk  to  the  top  of  very  high 
mountains.  In  the  next  place,  I  am  always  cheer- 
ful, pleasant,  perfectly  contented,  and  free  from  all 
perturbation  and  uneasy  thoughts.'^ 

After  mentioning  how  he  enjoyed  himself  at  hh 
different  country-seats,  he  goes  on,  ''  I  frequently 
make  excursions  to  some  of  the  neighbouring  cities 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  my  friends,  and  conversing 
Avith  the  adepts  in  all  arts  and  sciences;  architects, 
painters,  statuaries,  musicians,  and  even  husband- 
men. I  contemplate  their  works,  compare  them 
^vith  the  ancients,  and  am  always  learnljig  something 
"which  is  agreeable  to  know.  I  take  a  view  of  pala- 
ces, gardens,  antiquities,  public  buildings,  temples, 
fortifications,  and  nothing  escapes  me,  which  can  af- 
ford the  least  amusement  to  a  rational  mind.  Nor 
are  these  pleasures  at  all  blunted  by  the  usual  imper- 
fections of  great  age;  for  I  enjoy  all  my  senf-es  in  per^ 
feet  vigour,  my  taste  so  very  much,  that  I  have  a  bet- 
ter relish  for  the  plainest  food  now,  than  I  had  for 
the  'Choicest  delicacies,  when  formerly  immersed  in  a 


DICTIONARY.  125 

life  of  luxury.     Nay,  to  let  you  see  what  a  portion  of 
lire  and  spirit,  I  have  still  left  within  me,  know  that 
I  have  this  very  year  written  a  comedy  full   of  inno- 
cent mirth.    In  short,  that  no  pleasure  whatever  may 
be  wanting  to  my  old  age,  I  please   myself  daily, 
with  coQtemplating  that  immortality,  which  I  thinlc 
I  see  in  the  succession  of  my  posterity.     For  every 
time  I  return  home,  I  meet  eleven  grandchildren,  all 
the  offspring  of  one  father  and  mother,   all  in  fine 
health;  all,  as  far  as  I  can  discern,  apt  to  learn,  and 
of  good  behaviour.     I  am  often  amused  with  their 
singing,  nay,  I  often  sing  with  them,  because    my 
voice  is  clearer  and  louder  now,  than  ever  it  was  in 
my  life  before.     These  are  the  delights  and  comforts 
of  my  old  age  ;  from  which,  I  presume,  it  appears, 
that  the  life  I  spend,  is  not  a  dead  and  melancholy 
life,  but  a  living  and  pleasant  life,  which  I  would  not 
change  with  the  most  robust  of  these  youths,  who 
indulge  and  riot  in  all  the  luxury  of  the  senses,  be- 
cause 1  know  them  to  be  exposed  to  a  thousand  dis- 
eases, and   a   thousand   kinds  of  death.     I,  on  the 
contrary,  am  free  from  all  such  apprehensions  ;  from 
the  apprehension  of  disease,  because  I   have  nothing 
for  a  disease  to  feed  upon  ;  from  the  apprehension  of 
death,  because   1  have   spent  a  life  of  reason.     Be- 
sides, death,  I  am  persuaded,  is  not  yet  near  me.     I 
know,  that  (barring  accidents)  no  violent  disease  can 
touch  me.     I  must  be  dissolved  bv  a  gentle  and   jrra- 
dual   decay,  when    the  radical  humour  is  consumed 
like  oil  in  a  lamp,  which  affords  no  longer  light  to 
the  dying  taper.    But  such  a  death  as  this  cannot  hap- 
pen  of  a  sudden.     To  became  unable  to  walk  and 
reason,  to  become  blind,  df  af  and  bent  to  the  earth, 
from  ail  which  evils,  I  am  far  enough  at  present,  must 
take  a  considerable  portion  of  time;  and  1  verily  be- 
lieve, that  this  immortal  soul,  which  still  inhabits  mv 
body,  with  so  much  harmony  and  complacency,  will 
not  yet  easily  depart  from  it.     I  verily  believe  that  I 
feave  many  years  to  live,  many  years  to  enjoy  the 


125  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

worlu,  and  all  the  good  that  is  In  It,  by  virtue  of  that- 
strict  sobriety  and  temperance,  which  I  have  so  long 
and  so  religiously  observed." 

It  appeared  from  the  event,  that  this  wise  and  con- 
tented philosopher,  prophesied  veiy  truly  concerning 
his  future  health  and  happiness;  for  he  lived,  as  we 
have  already  observed,  to  be  above  an  hundred  years 
old,  and  died  at  Padua,  in  1566.  One  of  the  wri- 
ters in  the  Spectator  No.  195,  confirms  the  story  of 
Coinaro,  from  the  authority  of  the  Venetian  ambas- 
sador^  at  that  time,  in  England. 

CORNEILLE,  (Peter)  a  celebrated  French  po- 
et, was  born  at  Rouen,  m  1606.  He  was  brought 
up  to  the  bar,  but  becoming  disgusted  with  that  pro- 
fession, he  soon  rehnquished  it.  In  the  mean  time, 
he  had  given  the  public  no  specimen  of  his  talents 
for  poetry,  nor  was  he  yet  conscious  to  himself  of 
possessing  any  such  ;  and  we  are  told,  that  it  was 
merely  owing  to  a  trifling  affair  of  gallantry,  that  he 
wrote  his  first  comedy,  called,  "  Melite.'*  Cornell le 
was  astonished  to  find  himself  the  author  of  a  piece, 
entirely  new,  and  with  the  prodigious  success  with 
which  it  was  acted.  The  French  theatre,  which 
was  at  that  time,  extremely  low,  seemed  to  be  rais- 
ed, and  to  flourish  at  once  ;  and  though  deserted,  in 
a  manner,  before,  was  filled  on  a  sudden,  with  a 
new  company  of  actors.  Encouraged  by  the  most 
imbounded  applause,  he  wrote  the  "Medea,"  the 
^*  Cid,"  and  a  number  of  other  tragedies,  which  have 
immortalized  his  name. 

Corneille,  in  his  dramatic  works,  discovers  a  ma- 
jesty, a  strength  and  elevation  of  genius,  scarce  to 
be  found  in  any  other  of  the  French  poets ;  and  like 
the  immortal  Shakespeare,  seems  more  acquainted 
With  nature  than  with  the  rules  of  critics.  In  1647, 
he  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  French  Academy, 


DICTIONARY.  12? 

and  was  dean  of  that  society  at  the  time  of  his  death, 
Tvhich  happened  in  1684,  in  his  seventy-nintli  year. 

He  was,  it  is  said,  a  man  of  a  devout  and  rather 
melancholy  disposition,  and  having,  in  his  latter  ycars^ 
conceived  a  dislike  to  the  theatre,  he  betook  himself 
to  a  religious  life,  and  translated,  in  a  very  masterly 
manner,  a  famous  book,  entitled  "  The  Imitation  of 
Jesus  Christ/'  His  works  have  been  often  printed, 
and  consist  of  above  thirty  plays,  comedies  and  tra- 
gedies. 

COWPER,  (William)  a  very  ingenfous  writer 
and  truly  original  poet,  was  born  at  Berkhampstead^ 
in  Hertfordshire,  England;  in  1731.  His  father  wa& 
a  respectable  clergyman  and  nephew  to  the  Great 
Earl  Cooper,  lord  chancellor  of  England.  Our  au- 
thor received  his  education  at  Westminster,  from 
whence  he  was  transferred  to  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, which  he  left  without  taking  any  degree  9 
for  his  plan  being  at  that  time  to  study  the  law,  he 
quitted  the  university,  and  entered  himself  of  the 
Inner-Temple. 

At  this  period  of  his  life,  he  was  celebrated  for 
the  vivacity  and  sprightliness  of  his  conversation  and 
briliancy  of  his  wit.  He  associated  with  those,  who 
were  most  eminent  in  the  world ;  and,  though  it  i^ 
not  known,  that  he  employed  the  press  in  any  work, 
he  was  well  known  to  possess  the  powers  of  compr-- 
sition,  and  was  not  the  least  distinguished  of  the 
gr6upe,  which  then  dictated  the  laws  of  taste.  An 
office  of  considerable  value,  which  had  been  secured 
for  a  term  to  his  family,  it  is  supposed  he  v/as  intend- 
ed to  fill,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  he  engaged  in  the 
study  of  the  law,  with  some  application,  but  with 
little  success.  His- temper  and  disposition  of  life, 
were  not  in  unison  with  the  bustle  of  business  ;  his 
health  became  precarious,  and  some  event?  alluded 


128  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

to  in  his  poems,  but  not  sufficiently  explained,  com* 
pelled  him  to  seek  retirement  in  the  country. 

The  profound  reflections,  which  frequent  retire- 
ment occasioned  him  to  indulge  in,  gave  him  a  se- 
riousness of  manner  and  aspect,  which  alarmed  his 
friends,  and  excited  their  united  endeavours  to  avert 
the  apprehended  consequences  :  but  notwithstanding 
their  kind  and  affectionate  precautions,  he  contract- 
ed a  marked  melancholy,  which,  at  times,  deprived 
iiim  of  the  use  of  his  reason.  The  retirement  he 
chose  was  at  Olney,  in  Buckinghamshire,  at  which 
village  he  wrote  the  principal  part  of  his  poems.  Here 
the  habitual  gloominess,  which  had  so  long  preved 
upon  his  mind,  was  attempered,  at  least,  if  rot  whol- 
ly eradicated,  by  an  intercourse  with  the  Reverend  and 
pious-Mr.  John  Newton,  then  minister  of  that  place, 
who  brought  him  acquainted  with  chat  system  of  re- 
ligion, which,  in  England,  is  denominated  Cakinistic 
Methodism.  The  mind  of  Mr.  Cowper,  long  j)er- 
plexed  by  scruples,  of  a  religious  nature,  long  be- 
wildered on  the  subject  of  revelation  itself,  and  har- 
rassed  by  new  dogmas  and  metaphysical  objections, 
thus  at  last  became  settled  and  composed.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  to  be  wondered  at,  that  the  most  endearing 
friendship  should  have  been  formed  between  him  and 
that  gentleman. 

When  Mr.  Newton  published  his  volume  of  hymns, 
called  the  "  The  Olney  *s  collection,"  it  was  enriched 
with  some  compositions  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Cow- 
per, distinguished  by  the  letter  C.  They  bear  inter- 
nal evidence  of  a  cultivated  understanding,  and  an 
original  genius.  As  Mr.  Cowper  had  no  relish  for 
public  concerns,  it  was  not  singular,  that  he  should 
have  neglected  the  study  of  the  law,  on  which  he 
had  first  entered.  That  knowledge  of  active  hfe,  which 
is  so  requisite  for  the  legal  profession,  could  hardly 
be  acquired  on  the  banks  of  the  Ouse,  and  in  silent 
contemplation  on  the  beauties  oi  nature.  In  this  re- 
treat he  exchange  dp,  for  the  society  and  converse  of 


dictionahy;-  «^^ 

of  the  muses,  the  ambition  and  tumult  of  a  forensic 
occupation,  dedicating  his  mind  to  the  cultivation  of 
poetry,  and  storing  it  with  these  images,  which  he 
derived  from  the  inexhaustible  treasury  of  a  rich  and 
varied  scenery,  in  a  most  beautiful  and  romantic  coun- 
try. This  situation  he  so  far  improved,  that  it  may 
be  safely  asserted,  no  writer,  with  the  exception  of 
Thomson,  ever  studied  nature  with  more  diligence, 
or  copied  her  with  more  fidelity. 

The  first  volume  of  his  poems,  which  was  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  Nev^ton,  in  1782,  consists  of  various 
pieces,  on  various  subjects.  It  seems  that  he  had 
been  assiduous  in  cultivating  a  turn  for  grave  and  ar- 
gumentative versification  on  moral  and  ethical  sub- 
jects. Of  this  kind,  is  the  Table  Talk,  and  several 
other  pieces  in  the  collection.  His  lighter  poems  are 
well  known.  Of  these,  the  verses  supposed  to  be 
written  by  Robinson  Crusoe,  (Alexander  Selkirk)  on 
the  Island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  are  in  the  most,  popu- 
lar estimation.  There  is  great  originality  in  the  fol- 
lowing Stanza  : 

"  I  am  oat  of  humanity's  reach, 
I  must  finish  my  journey  alone  ; 
Never  hear  the  sweet  music  of  speech^ 
I  start  at  the  sound  of  my  ovrn." 

It  would  be  absurd  to  give  one  general  character 
of  all  the  pieces,  which  were  published  in  this 
volume;  Yet  this  is  true,  concerning  Mr.  Cowper's 
productions,  that,  in  all  the  varieties  of  style,  there 
raay  still  be  discerned  the  likeness  and  impression  of 
tnQ  same  mind,  the  same  unaffected  modesty,  which 
always  rejects  unseasonable  and  ambitious  ornaments 
of  language,  the  same  easy  vigour,  and  the  sama 
serene  and  chearful  hope  derived  from  a  steady  and 
unshaken  faith  in  the  christian  religion. 

The  favourable  reception  which  this  first  volume 
experienced,  produced  another  of  superior  merit, 
entitled  "  The  Task,''  a  poem  in  six  books.     The 

Vol.  II,  No.  iO.  R 


130  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAi, 

occasion  tv-hich  gave  birth  to  it.  Is  trivial.  A  lady 
had  requested  him  to  write  a  piece  in  blank  verse, 
and  gave  him  for  its  subject,  the  Sofa.  This,  from 
the  trifle,  which  he  at  first  intended,  he  expanded  in- 
to a  volume  containing  one  of  the  finest  moral  poems 
w-hich  the  English  language  ever  produced.  Added 
to  it,  are  an  epistle  to  Joseph  Hill,  Esq.  Tirocinium^  > 
or  a  Review  of  Schools,  containing  severe  strictures 
on  the  general  mode  of  public  education,  in  the  Bri- 
tish kingdoms;  and,  the  universally  Well  known 
"  Historv  of  John  Gilpin,"  a  sportive  piece  of  hu- 
mour, which  v^'ould  have  done  credit  to  many  writers, 
but  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  added  to  Mr.  Cowper's 
reputation. 

His  next  work  was  "  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey  of 
Homer,  translated  into  English  blank  verse,"  w^hich 
were  published  in  two  volumes  4to.  in  1791.  It  is 
an  unjust  piece  of  criticism,  to  compare  the  version  of 
Mr.  Pope,  to  that  of  Mr.  Cowper.  The  merits  of 
each  are  distinct  and  appropriate.  Mr.  Pope  has  ex- 
hibited Homer,  as  he  v^-ould  have  sung,  had  he  been, 
born  in  England.  Mr.  Cowper  has  endeavoured  to 
pourtray  him,  as  he  wrote  in  Greek,  adhering  fre- 
quently to  the  peculiarities  of  his  originars  idiom„ 
and  desiring  to  preserve  his  strength  and  energy,  to- 
gether with  his  harmony  and  smoothness. 

The  remaining  literary  work  of  Air.  Cowper,  though 
said  to  be  finished,  has  not  yet  seen  the  light,  we 
mean  his  complete  translation  of  Milton's  Latin  and 
Italian  poetry,  which  Mr.  Hayley  describes  as  ar^ 
elegant  and  spirited  version. 

During  the  last  seven  years  of  this  amiable  person's 
life,  the  state  of  his  health  continued  wavering  and 
uncertain,  subject  to  frequent  relapses,  and  exhibit- 
ing, at  times  a  spectacle,  of  calamity  most  distressing 
to  a  feelino^  mind.*  To  the  exertions  of  his  friend, 
Mr.  Hayley,  he  was  indebted  for  a  pension  from  the 
crown^t  than  which  no  exercise  ot  Roval  benevolence 


J)ICTIONAaY.  15E 

was  ever  more  calculated  to  satisfy  the  v^  ishes  of  the 
goody  or  the  expectations  of  the  generous. 
He  died,  April  25th,   1800. 

GOLDEN,  (Cadwallader)  son  of  the  Rev- 
Alexander  Golden,  minister  of  Dunse,  in  the  Merse> 
Scotland,  was  born  17th  February,  1688.^  After 
having  received  a  liberal  education,  under  the  imme- 
diate inspection  of  his  father,  he  went  to  the  Univer- 
sity of  Edinburgh,  where,  in  1705,  he  completed 
his  course  of  academical  studies.  He  then  applied 
himself  particularly  to  medicine  and  mathematics,  and 
was  eminently  distinguished  by  his  proficiency  in 
both. 

Allured  by  the  fame  of  Mr.  Penn's  Golony  of  Penn- 
sylv'ania,  and  the  invitation  of  a  relation,  carried 
thither  by  enthusiasm  amongst  the  first  settlers,  he 
went  over  to  that  country,  about  the  year  1708, 
Here,  after  having  practised  physic,  for  some  years 
with  great  reputation,  he  returned  to  his  native  coun- 
try, which  he  found  greatly  distracted,  in  consequence 
of  the  troubles  of  1715.  From  London,  he  went 
down  to  Scotland,  in  company  with  the  Marquis  of 
Lothian,  and  putting  himself  at  tlie  head  of  the  loy- 
al men  of  his  father's  congregation,  joined  a  body  of 
militia,  under  lord  Ancram,  to  oppose  the  progress 
of  general  M'Intosh,  a  circumstance  in  his  life,  which 
had  not  been  worth  mentioning,  had  not  his  enemies 
in  America,  many  years  afterwards,  propagated  a 
report,  that  Mr.  Golden  bad  bc.m  engaged  in  the  re-  * 
bellion  of  that  year. 

The  state  of  his  native  country,  marring  all  his 
prospects  of  enjoyment  with  his  friends  and  learned  ac- 
_quaintances,  he  hastened  to  complete  a  matrimonial 
connection  with  a  young  lady  of  a  respectable  Scotch 
family,  by  the  name  of  Gristie,  with  whom  he  re- 
turned to  America,  in  1716. 

Whilst  in  London,  he  was  introduced  to  Dr.  Hal- 


13^  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ley,  who  was  so  w^cll  pleased  with  a  paper  on  animal 
secretions,  written  in  that  early  part  of  Mr.  Colden's 
life,  that  he  read  it  before  the  Royal  Society,  the  no- 
tice of  which,  it  greatly  attracted. 

At  this  time,  he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  literary  characters  in  Eng- 
gland,  with  whom  he  afterwards  corresponded,  giving 
them  useful  and  curious  inteligence  from  this  then 
little  known  country.  He  early  began  to  notice  the 
plants  of  America,  classing  and  distinguishing  them 
according  to  the  custom  of  botany  then  in  use.  He 
was  attentive  to  the  climate,  and  left  a  long  course  of 
diurnal  observations  on  the  thermometor,  barometer 
and  winds.  He  cultivated  an  acquaintance  with  the 
natives  of  the  country,  and  often  entertained  his  cor- 
respondents with  observations  on  their  customs  and 
manners.  He  wrote  also  a  history  of  the  prevalent 
diseases  of  the  climate,  and  if  he  w^as  not  the  lirst  to 
recommend,  he  wa^  certainlv  one  of*  the  earliest  and 
Avarmest  advocates  of  the  cooling  regimen,  in  the 
cure  of  fevers ;  and  opposed  with  great  earnestness 
the  then  prevalent  mode  ot  shutting  up,  in  warm  and 
confined  rooms,  patients  in  the  small  pox. 

Brigadier  General  Hunter,  at  that  time,  governor 
of  New-York,  a  man  of  letters  and  a  correspondent 
of  Dean  Swift,who  mentions  the  general  in  one  of  the 
Tatlers,  under  the  appellation  of  Eboracensis,  con- 
ceived so  favourable  an  opinion  of  Mr.  Golden,  after 
a  short  acquaintance,  that  he  became  his  warm  triend, 
and  offered  him  his  patronage,  if  he  would  remove 
to  New-York.  In  1718,  therefore,  Mr.  Golden  set- 
tled in  that  city,  where,  in  a  year  or  two  after,  he 
was  made  survevor  general  of  lands,  and  was  the 
first,  who  filled  that  office  in  the  colony.  About  the 
same  time,  he  appears,  likewise,  to  have  received  as 
the  first  evidence  of  hi^  patron's  favour,  the  appoint- 
ment of  Master  in  Ghancery. 

In  1720,  upon  the  arrival  o(  governor  Burnet,  of 
whose  life  v/e  have   already  given  a  sketch,  he  was 


DICTIONARY,  1S3 

honoured  with  a  seat  in  the  king's  council  of  the  pro- 
vince, to  the  head  of  which  board,  he  afterwards 
Tor^e,  by  survivorship ;  and,  in  that  station,  succeed- 
ed to  the  administration  of  the  government,  in  1760. 

Previous  to  this,  Mr.  Golden  had  obtained  a  patent 
for  a  tract  of  land  in  the  then  county  of  Ulster,  about 
nine  miles  from  Newburgh,  on  the  Hudson  river,  and 
to  this  place,  which,  in  his  patent,  is  called  Cold- 
ingham,  he  retired,  with  his  family,  about  the  year 
1755.  There  he  undertook  to  clear  and  cultivate  a 
small  part  of  the  tract  as  a  farm,  and  his  attention 
was  divided  between  agricultural  and  philosophical 
pursuits,  and  the  duties  of  his  office  of  surveyor  ge- 
neral. 

The  spot,  which  he  had  selected  for  his  retirement, 
is  entirely  inland,  and  has  nothing  remarkably  plea- 
sant in  it.  The  grounds  are  rough  and  of  no  very 
superior  quality.  At  the  time  he  chose  it  for  a  resi- 
dence, it  was  solitary,  uncultivated,  and  the  country 
around  it  absolutely  a  wilderness,  without  even  roads, 
or,  if  any,  such  as  were  hardly  passable.  It  was  be- 
sides, a  frontier  to  the  Indians,  who  were  often  in  a 
state  of  hostility,  and  committed  frequent  barbarities. 
Yet  no  entreaties  of  his  friends,  when  they  thought 
him  in  danger,  from  his  savage  neighbours,  could  en- 
tice him  from  his  favourite  home.  He  chose  rather 
to  guard  and  fortify  his  house,  and  amidst  dangers, 
which  would  have  disturbed  the  minds  of  most  men, 
he  appears  uninterruptedly  to  have  gone  on,  in  his  pur- 
suit of  knowledge. 

In  1761,  the  king  of  Great  Britain  appointed  hiin 
his  lieutenant  governor  of  New- York,  which  com- 
mission he  held  till  the  time  of  his  death,  the  ad- 
ministration of  government  repeatedly  falling  on  him 
by  the  death  or  absence  of  several  Governors  in  chief. 

His  political  character  w^as  rendered  very  con- 
spicuous, by  the  firmness  of  his  conduct  as  govenior, 
during  the  violent  commotions,  which  preceded  the 
late  revolution.     He  had  the  administration  when  the 


134  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

paper,  to  be  distributed  in  New- York,  under  the  Bri- 
tish stamp  act  arrived,  and  it  was  put  under  his  care 
in  the  fortification  called  Fort  George,  which  was 
then  standing  on  the  Battery  point.  The  attempt  ot 
the  British  parliament,  to  raiiie  a  revenue,  by  taxing 
the  colonies,  had,  in  every  stage,  excited  a  spirit  of 
indignation  and  resentment,  which  had  long  since 
risen  above  the  controul  of  government.  This  step 
to  carry  the  project  into  execution,  at  once,  gave  ac- 
tivity to  the  malecontents  ;  and,  as  the  authors  of  the 
plan  were  out  of  their  reach,  they  determined  to  let 
their  agents  and  servants  feel  the  weight  of  the  re- 
sentment, w^hich  was  at  first  directed  against  those 
who  held  any  office  under  the  act.  At  length,  a 
multitude,  consisting  of  many  thousand  people,  as- 
sembled under  leaders,  who  have  since  been  con- 
spicuous revolutionary  characters,  and  determined  to 
make  the  Lieutenant  Governor  deliver  up  to  them 
the  stampt  paper,  to  be  destroyed,  Mr  Golden  had 
received  an  intimation  of  their  design,  and  prepared 
to  defend,  with  fidelity,  the  trust  which  had  devolv- 
ed upon  him.  He  required  the  engineers  under  his 
command,  in  the  fort,  to  put  it  in  the  best  possible 
state  of  defence.  But,  after  doing  this,  they  report- 
ed to  him,  that  the  fortress  was  not  competent  to  re- 
sist the  force  by  which  it  v/as  threatened ;  that  it  was 
commanded  by  many  circumjacent  buildings;  that  it 
afforded  no  cover  to  the  defenders,  and  that  the  walls 
might  every  where  be  surmounted  and  carried  by  es- 
calade. In  the  evening  of  the  15th  February,  1766, 
a  vast  concourse  of  people  assembled  round  the  fort ; 
a  few,  w^ho  appeared  to  act  as  a  committee,  handed 
in  a  paper,  signed  "  New-York,"  by  which  they  de- 
manded the  surrender  of  the  stamped  paper,  and 
threatened,  that  if  it  was  not  yielded  to  ihem,  the 
governor  and  his  adherents  should  be  massacred  ;  but 
the  venerable  magistrate  remained  inflexible,  and  thd' 
he  was  surrounded  by  a  terrified  family,  and  those 
whose  safety  was  most  dear  to  him,  and  who,  ever/ 


DICTIONART.  135 

moment  J  expected  to  find  themselv'es  at  the  mercy  of 
an  exasperated  mob,  he  preserved  his  equanim'uy  and 
was  unmoved,  either  by  the  tears  and  entreaties  of 
those  within  ,  or  the  threats  and  railings  he  heard 
from  without.  That  kind  of  firmness,  which,  though 
it  sometimes  maintains  wrong  actions,  yet  is  seldom 
observed,  but  in  those  who  think  they  are  right,  was, 
in  him,  a  distinguished  characteristic.  The  mob  hav- 
ing remained  together  the  greatest  part  of  the  night, 
without  proceeding  to  extremities,  and  finding  that 
they  could  not,  by  those  means,  obtain  the  papers, 
at  length  dispersed.  They  assembled  again  several 
times,  till,  in 'the  sequel,  the  papers,  for  their  securi- 
ty were  put  on  board  a  British  man  of  war,  then  in 
the  port.  In  the  mean  time,  the  populace  gratified 
their  resentment,  by  burning  the  efiigy  of  the  Lieuten- 
ant Governor,  and  destroying  his  carriages  under  his 
view. 

His  administration  is  rendered  memorable  amongst 
other  things,  by  several  charters  of  incorporation,  tor 
the  most  useful  and  benevolent  purposes.  The  cor- 
poration for  the  relief  of  distressed  seamen,  called 
**  The  Marine  Society;"  that  of  the  "Chamber  of 
Commerce,"  and  one  for  the  relief  of  widows  and 
children  of  Clergymen,  will  transmit  his  name  with 
approbation  to  the  remotest  posterity. 

Though  he  quitted  the  practice  of  medicine  at  an 
early  day,  yet  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  favorite  stu- 
dy, being  ever  ready  to  give  his  assistance  to  his  neigh- 
borhood, and  to  those,  who  from  his  reputation  ot 
knowledge  and  experience,  applied  to  him  from 
more  distant  quarters. 

About  the  year  1743,  a  mafignant  fever  then 
also  called  the  Yellow-Fever,  had  raged  for  two 
summers  in  the  city  of  New-York,  and  appears 
to  have  been  in  all  respects  similar  to  that  disor- 
der, the  fatality  of  which,  we  have  of  Jate  years  so 
dreadfully  experienced.  He  communicated  his 
thoughts  to  the  public,  on  the  most  probable  cure  cl 


135  NfiW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

the  calamity,  in  a  little  treatise  on  the  occasion,  m 
which  he  collected  the  sentiments  of  best  authority, 
on  the  bad  effects  of  stagnatin^^  waters,  moist  air, 
damp  cellars,  filthy  stores  and  dirty  streets.  He  shewed 
how  much  these  nuisances  prevailed  in  many  parts  of 
the  city,  and  pointed  out  the  reniedles.  The  corpo- 
ration of  the  city  gave  him  their  thanks,  and  establish- 
ed a  plan  for  draining  and  cleaning  the  city,  which 
was  attended  with  the  most  happy  effects. 

He  also  wrote  and  published  a  treatise  ^'  On  the 
cure  of  the  cancer'*  j  and  another  essay  of  his,  on  the 
virtues  of  the  Bortanice,  or  great  water  dock  a  spe- 
cies of  the  rumex  introduced  him  to  an  acquain- 
tance with  the  great  Linnsus.  In  the  year  1753, 
he  published  some  observations  on  an  epidemical  sore 
throat,  which  had  appeared  over  a  great  part  of 
North  America. 

When  he  became  acquainted  with  Linna^us's  sys- 
tem of  botany,  he  applied  himself  with  new  delight 
to  that  study.  His  description  of  between  three  and 
tour  hundred  American  plants,  according  to  that  sys- 
tem are  published  in  the  "  Acta  Upsaliensia.  One  of 
his  dauq:hters  took  so  lar^e  a  share  in  his  botanical 
amusements,  that  she  became  a  prohcient  in  the  sci- 
ence. She  not  only  described  a  great  iiumber  of  plants 
but  took  impressions  of  their  foliage.  One  of  her 
descriptions  of  an  American  piant,  till  then  undiscri- 
bed,  is  published  in  the  second  volum«£  of  the  Edin- 
burgh Physical  and  Literary  essays  ;  from  whence  it 
has  tound  its  way  into  other  books  on  the  science  of 
botany,  and  is  met  with  in  the  Encyclopaedia,  under  the 
head  Coldenia,  a  name  given  to  tlie  plant  by  Linn- 
a:u^,  as  a  compliment  to  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Colden. 

^Vhile  Mr.  Burnet  was  governor  of  New- York,  Mr. 
Colden  published  "The  history  of  the  Five  Indian  na* 
tions,"  and  dedicated  it  to  the  governor,  who  had  ap- 
plied himself  with  great  wisdom  and  success  to  the 
management  of  the  Indians.  The  book  was  printed 
at  London,  in  1747,  with  the  original  dedication  in- 


Dictionary.  IS7 

tended  for  Govenior  Burnet,  directed  to  General  Ogle- 
thorp,  which  Mr.  Golden  justly  complains  of  as  an 
unpardonable  absurdity  of  the  printer,  who  took  the 
further  liberty  of  adding  several  Indian  treaties  and 
other  papers  v/ithout  his  knowledge  or  approbation. 

But  the  subject,  which  drew  Mr.  Golden,  at  one 
time  of  his  life,  from  every  other  pursuit j  was  what 
he  first  published  under  the  title  of  "  The  cause  of 
Gravitation,"  and  being  much  enlarged,  appeared  in 
1751,  under  the  title  of  ''  The  Principles  of  Action 
in  matter,'*  to  which  he  added  a  "  Treatise  on  Fluc- 
tions.'*  The  bounds  to  which  this  publication  is  ne- 
cessarily limited,  will  not  admit  of  an  attempt  to  give 
an  idea  of  a  work  which  cost  the  author  many  years 
close  and  severe  study.  He  died  in  a  firm  persuasion, 
that  however  he  might  have  erred  in  the  deductions, 
the  grand  fundamental  principles  of  his  system  were 
true,  and  that  they  would,  one  day  or  other,  be  re* 
ceived  as  such  in  the  world.  He  prepared  a  new 
edition  of  his  book,  with  large  additions  and  eluci- 
dations of  such  parts  as  had  been  subjected  to  ob- 
jections. At  the  time  that  this  work  was  ready  for  the 
press,  he  was  so  far  advanced  in  years,  that  he  des- 
paired of  living  to  see  it  published.  He,  therefore, 
transmitted  his  MS.  to  his  friend  and  correspondent. 
Dr.  Whittle,  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians,  and 
professor  of  Medicine,  in  the  university  of  Edin- 
burgh.    Their  fate,  since  that  time,  is  not  known. 

Though  Mr.  Colden's  principal  attention,  after  the 
year  1760,  was  directed  from  philosophical  to  politi- 
cal matters,  yet  he  maintained,  with  great  punctuali- 
ty, his  literary  correspondence,  particularly  with  Lin- 
naeus of  Upsal,  Gronovius  of  Leyden,  Dr.  Potters** 
field  and  Dr.  Whittle,  of  Edinburgh,  and  Mr.  Peter 
Coliinson,  F.  R.S.  of  London,  who,  though  he  never 
saw  Mr.  Golden,  was  a  most  useful  and  affectionate 
iriend,  and  to  him  Mr.  Golden  owed  an  introduc- 
:ion  to  many  other  of  the  most  literary  characters  of 
Europe.     There  are  several  communications  betweeii 

Vol.  n.  No.  11,  S 


138  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAr 

him  and  the  Earl  of  Macclesfield,  ,>vho  appears  to 
have  devoted  much  of  his  attention. to  .mathematics 
and  astronomy.  He  was  the  constant  and  intimate 
correspondent  of  Doctor  Franklin  ,  and  they  regularly 
communicated  to  each  other,  their  philosophical  and 
physical  discoveries,  particularly  on  electricity,  which 
at  that  time^  began  to  excite  the  attention  of  Philoso- 
phers. In  their  letters,  are  to  be  observed  the  first 
dawnings  of  many  of  those  discoveries,  which  Dr. 
Franklin  has  communicated  to  the  world,  and  which 
have  so  much  astonished  and  benefited  mankind.  Dr. 
Franklin,  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  friends,  gives 
him  an  account  of  the  organization  of  the  American 
Philosophical  Society,  of  which  he  mentions  that  Mr. 
Golden  had  first  suggested  the  idea  and  plan;  and, 
which  was  opened  at  Philadelphia,  on  account  of  its 
central  and  convenient  situation.  He  wr.s  also  the 
intimate  friend  and  frequent  correspondent  of  James 
Alexander  Esq.  who  was  long  his  fellow  in  the  coun- 
cils of  the  province,  and  who  was,  likewise,  a  man 
of  great  learning,  and  deeply  versed  in  the  mathe- 
matical and  astronomical  sciences. 

At  any  recess  trom  public  business,  though  at  so 
advanced  an  age,  he  was  fond  of  rt-suming  his  philo- 
sophical pursuits^  and  w^ote  several  essays  on  the 
most  intricate  subjects,  many  of  which  remiain  in 
MS.  Amongst  his  papers,  though  most  of  them  want 
much  correction  and  revision  to  fit  them  for  the  press, 
it  has  unfortunatelv  happened,  th.a.t  in  the  variety  of 
hands  into  which  they  have  fallen,  many  of  his  wri- 
tings have  become  mutilated,  and  a  great  part  of 
some  of  them  are  entirely  lost.  Amongst  these  are 
an  enquiry  into  the  operation  of  intellect,  in  anim.als, 
a  piece  of  great  o  riginality  :  another  on  the  essential 
properties  of  light,  a  very  ingenious  performance,  in- 
t-erspersed  with  c  «rious  observations  on  electricity, 
heat,  matter,  &c.  An  introduction  to  the  study  of 
j)hysic,  he  threw,  nto  the  form  ot  instructions  to  one 
of  his  grandsons,   and  dates  in  the  eighty-first  year  of 


4 


DICTIONARY.  lS9 

his  age:  "  An  enquiry  into  the  causes  producing  the 
phenomenon  of  metal  medly  svviming  in  water;"  "An 
Essay  on  Vital  Motion/'  and  lastly,  "  Observations 
on  Mr.  Smith's  History  of  New-York,"  comprehend- 
ing memoirs  of  the  public  transactions,  in  which  he 
was  conversant.  He  complains  of  the  partiality  of 
Mr.  Smith,  and  supposes  that  he  is  incorrect  in  many 
particulars. 

He  was,  for  the  first  time,  relieved  from  the  weight 
of  the  administration  of  government,  by  the  return  of 
Mr.  Tryon,  the  governor  in  chief,  in  1115.  He  then 
retired  to  a  seat  on  Long-Island,  where  a  recollec- 
tion of  his  former  studies,  and  a  circle  of  a  few  select 
friends  ever  welcomed  by  a  cheerful  and  hospitable 
disposition,  enlivened  the  placid  beams  of  his  setting 
sun.  He  died  on  the  memorable  2Sth  September, 
1776,  a  few  hoars  before  the  city  of  New- York  was 
in  flames.  He  complained  neither  of  pain  of  body 
nor  anguish  of  mind,  except  on  account  of  the  politi- 
cal troubles  he  had  long  predicted,  and  then  saw 
overwhelming  both  the  mother  country  and  the  colo- 
nies. He  retained  his  senses  till  the  last  moment, 
and  turning  as  it  were  to  take  a  nap,  expired  with- 
out a  groan,  having  nearly  completed  the  eighty- 
ninth  year  of  his  age. 

CRANMER,  (Thomas)  an  English  archbishops 
and  martyr  for  the  protestant  rcligeon,  was  born  in 
Nottinghamshire,  in  1489.  in  the  year,  1503,  he  was 
admitted  of  Jesus*  college,  Cambridge,  of  which  he 
afterwards  became  tellow.  Soon  afler  he  had  com- 
menced master  of  arts,  he  married,  in  consequence  of 
which  he  lost  his  fellowship ;  but  his  wife  dying  with- 
in a  year,  the  college  had  so  great  respect  for  his  un- 
common abilities  and  application  to  letters,  that  they 
agam  re-elected  him  to  his  former  station. 

In  1523,  he  was  made  D.  D.  and  chosen  theologi- 
cal  lecturer,  and  examiner  of  those  who  wished  to  be 


no  IfiEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

ndmitted  to  the  degree  of  divinity.  Contrary  totlie 
practice,  which  had  been  heretofore  prevalent,  he  ex- 
amined the  candidates  chiefly  out  of  the  scriptures^ 
and  finding  that  many  of  them,  instead  of  having  di« 
reeled  their  attention  to  that  subject,  had  thrown 
away  their  time  on  the  dark  perplexities  and  useless 
questions  of  the  schoolmen,  he  rejected  them  as  in* 
competent.  He,  at  the  same  time,  advised  them  to  ap- 
ply themselves  closely  to  the  study  ofthe  scriptures,ad- 
ding,  tliat  it  was  a  shame  for  a  professor  of  divinity  to 
be  unskilled  in  that  book,  wherein  the  knowledge  of 
God  «ind  the  true  foundation  of  divinity  was  alone  to 
be  found. 

The  immediate  cause  of  his  advancement  in  the 
church,  was  the  opinion  he  gave  upon  Henry  VIII. th's 
intended  divorce  from  Queen  Catharine  of  Spain  :  for 
being  upon  a  certain  occasion  in  company  with  some 
persons  of  distinction, and  that  matter,  w^hich  was  al- 
jPiOst  the  only.thing  talked  of,  becoming  the  subject 
of  conversation,  Cranmer  being  desired  to  speak,. 
gave  it  as  his  opinion,  that  it  would  be  much  better 
to  have  this  question,  "  whether  a  man  may  marry  his- 
brother's  wife  or  no,  discussed  and  decided  by  the  di- 
vines, upon  the  authority  of  God's  word,  than  thus  to 
prolong  the  time  by  having  recourse  to  the  Pope; 
that  there  vvas  but  one  truth  in  it,  which  the  scripture 
"would  soon  declare  and  manifest ;  and  that  might  be 
done  as  well  at  the  universities  in  England,  as  at  Rome 
or  elsewhere."  This  opinion  being  communicated  to 
the  King,  his  Majesty  was  so  much  pleased  with  it^ 
Ihat  he  serit  for  Cranmer  to  court,  made  him  one  of 
his  chaplains,  and  ordered  himtowTite  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  the  divorce.  He  did  so,  and  shewed  by  the  testi- 
monies ofthe  scriptures,  of  general  councils  and  an- 
cient writings,  that  the  Bishop  of  Rome  had  no  autho- 
rity to  dispense  with  the  word  of  God.  From  hence 
we  may  learn,  that  the  reformation  which  Luther 
had  set  on  foot  in  Germany  in  1517,  began  to  make 
seme  progress  amongst  the  English  immediately  afteifi 


DICTIONAHY.  341 

When  he  had  finished  his  book,  he  went  to  Cambridge 
to  dispute  upon  that  subject,  and  brought  mnny  over 
to  his  opinion.  About  this  time  he  was,  likewise 
promoted  to  a  rich  living  in  the  church. 

The  king,  by  the  perusal  of  this  book,  having  now 
satisfied  his  own  tender  conscience,  was  desirous  that 
all  Europe  should  be  equally  convinced  as  him- 
self, with  respect  to  the  illegality  of  his  marriage. 
He,  therefore,  in  1530,  dispatched  Cranmer,  along 
with  some  others,  to  France,  Italy  and  Germany, 
to  dispute  the  matter  with  the  divines  of  these  coun- 
tries. Whilst  he  was  at  Rome,  the  Pope  consti- 
tuted him  his  penitentiary  throughout  England,  Ire- 
land and  Wales;  not  so  much  out  of  respect  to 
him,  as  to  appease  that  reforming  spirit,  which  he  had 
alreadv  discovered.  In  Germanv,  he  was  sole  am- 
bassador  upon  the  forementioned  affair ;  and,  during 
his  residence  there,  married  at  Nuremburgh,  his  se* 
cond  wife. 

Upon  the  death  of  Dr.  Wardam,  archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  in  1532,  he  was  nominated  for  his 
successor ;  but  he  refused  to  accept  of  that  dignity^ 
unless  he  should  receive  it  from  the  king  witliout  the 
intervention  of  the  Pope.  He  was  consecrated  March 
50th,  1533  :  and,  because  in  the  oath  of  fidelity  ta 
the  Pope,  which  he  was  obliged  to  take  upon  this  oc- 
casion, there  were  some  things  seemingly  inconsist- 
ent with  his  allegiance  to  the  king,  he  made  a  public 
protestation,  that  he  intended  not  to  take  the  oath  in 
any  other  form,  than  that  which  wasreconcileable  to 
theiawsof  God,  theking's  just  prerogative  and  the  sta- 
Tues  of  his  kingdom;  so  as  not  to  bind  himself  there- 
by to  act  contrary  to  either.  On  the  23d  of  May, 
1533,  he  pronounced  the  sentence  of  divorce  between 
king  Henry  and  queen  Catharine^;  and,  in  a  few 
days  after,  married  the  amorous  monarch  to  Ann  Bo« 
leyn.  The  Pope,  alarir^ed  at  these  proceedings,  threat- 
ened to  excommunicate  the  archbishop,  unless  he 
would  revoke  what  he  had  done :  hC;,  however,  ap- 


142  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

pcalcd  from  his  holiness  to  a  general  council :  and, 
tiom  that  time,  became  an  open  and  avowed  enemy 
to  the  Pope*s  supremacy,  which,  in  the  year  follow- 
mg  was  abrogated  by  parliament,  chiefly  by  his 
means. 

Being  now  at  the  head    of  the   church,  Cranmer 
exerted  himself  to  the  utmost,  in  promoting  the  pro- 
gress of  the  reformation.     His  first  care  was  to  have 
the  bible  translated  into  the  English  language ;  a  work, 
which  was  received  with  inexpressible  joy  by  all  class- 
es   of  people  :  he,    alterwards,  forwarded   the   sup- 
pression of  the  monasteries.     In  1537,  he  visited  his 
diocese,  and  endeavoured  to  abolish  the  superstitious 
observation  of  holidays.     In  1539,  he  and  some  other 
bishops,  who  favoured  the  reformation,  fell  under  the 
king's  displeasure,  because  they  would  not  consent 
in  parliament,  thai  the  revenues  of  the   monasteries, 
which   w.-'re  suppressed,  should    be   appropriated  to 
his  own  sole   use.     They  had,  indeed,  agreed,  that 
he  should  have  all  the  lands,  which  his  ancestors  had 
given  to  any  of  them  ;  but  they  wished  to  bestow  the 
residue   on   hospitals,  schools,  and   other   pious  and 
charitable  foundations.     Cranmer,  in  particular,  had 
projected,  that  provision  should    be  made  out  of  this 
fund,  for  readers  of  divinity,  and  of  Greek  and  He- 
brew,   in  every  cathedral ;  by    w^hich    means,    they 
might   be  converted  from  nurseries  of  idleness,  into 
seminaries  of  useful  learning.     But  Gardiner,  bishop 
of  Winchester,  and    the   rest   of  the  popish  faction, 
took  this  opportunity  to  insinuate  themselves  into  the 
king's  favour,  and  to  incense,  him   against  the   arch,- 
bishop  ;  and,  from  that  circumstance,  we   may    ac- 
count for  the  king's  zeal,  in  pressing  the  bill  contain- 
ing, what  has  since  been  called,  the  six  bloody  arti- 
cles; by  which,  none  were   allowed  to  speak  against 
transubstantiation,  on  pain  of  being  burnt  as  heretics. 
It   was,  also,    thereby,   made   felony  to  defend    the 
communio-n  in  both  kinds,  or  marriage  of  the  clergy, 
or  tliose,  who  had  vowed  celibacy,  or  to  speak  against 


DICTIONARY.  14S 

private  masses  and  auricular  confessions.  The  archv 
bish  .«p  argued  boldiy  against  the  passing  of  this  act,, 
for  three  days  successively,  in  the  house  of  lords: 
DotWithstanding  which,  he  still  retained  the  ki^:g'^ 
favour ;  but,  when  the  act  was  carried  through,  he 
thought  it  prudent  to  send  his  wqfe  into  Germany. 

In  1540,  the  king  issued  out  a  commission  to  the 
archbishop  and  a  select  number  of  bishops,  to  inspect 
into  matters  of  religion,  and  explain  some  of  its  chief 
doctrines.  The  bishops  drew  up  a  set  of  articles,  ia 
favour  of  the  old  popish  superstitions:  but,  though 
Cranmer  saw  that  he  was  daily  losing  grouted,  in  th^ 
king's  affection,  no  argument  could  prevail  on  him  to 
sub.>cribe  to  such  tenets.  The  result  of  the  comuiis- 
sion,  therefore,  was  the  book,  entitled,  "A  neces- 
sary erudition  for  any  Christian  man." 

in  the  year  1541,  he  gave  orders,  pursuant  to  the 
king's  direction,  for  taking  av/ay  superstitious  shrines; 
and,  in  the  year  following,  procured  the  "Act  for 
the  advancement  of  true  religion,  and  the  abolishment 
of  the  contrary,"  by  which,  the  rigour  o[  the  six  ar- 
ticles was  greatly  moderated.  The  king  continued, 
afterwards,  to  protect  him  from  his  enemies  :  and, 
by  his  last  will,  appointed  him  one  of  his  executors 
arid  regent  of  the  kingdom. 

On  February  20th,  1547,  ho  crowned  Edw^ard 
VI.  during  whose  shoM  ign,  he  promoted  the  re- 
formation to  the  v^'.iiost  of  his  power.  About  the 
same  time,  he  ordained  several  priests  ?nd  deacons, 
according  to  the  new  form  of  ordination,  in  the  com- 
mon prayer  book,  which,  through  his  care,  was  now 
finished,  and  settled  by  act  of  parliament.  In  the 
beginning  of  1553,  he  opposed  the  intended  settle- 
ment of  the  crown  upon  Jane  Gray,  though  upon, 
the  death  of  Edward  VI.  which  happened  on  the 
6th  July,  of  the  same  year,  he  was  induced  to  appear 
for  her. 

Those  acquainted  with  the  history  of  England,  will 
recollect,  that,  after  that  lady  had  held  the  reins   ef 


144  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

government,  for  a  very  few  days,  she  was  deposed 
by  Queen  Mary  :  after  whose  accession  to  the  throne, 
the  troubles  of  our  archbishop  began  to  multiply 
apace.  He  was  first  ordered  to  appear  before  the 
council,  and  bring  an  inventory  of  his  goods,  Aug. 
27th,  when  he  w^as  commanded  to  consider  himself 
as  a  prisoner,  in  his  own  house  :  and,  in  September 
following,  he  was  committed  to  the  tower,  partly  for 
setting  his  hand  to  the  instrument  of  Jane  Gray's  suc- 
cession, and  partly  for  the  public  offer  he  had  made, 
a  little  before,  of  openly  justifying  the  religious  pro- 
ceedings of  the  late  king.  In  the  ensuing  parliament, 
November  3d,  he  was  attainted,  and  found  guilty  of 
high  treason  ;  upon  which  the  fruits  of  his  arch- 
bishopric were  sequestered.  In  April,  1554,  he, 
with  the  two  bishops  Ridley  and  Latimer  were  remov- 
ed to  Oxford,  to  a  public  disputation  with  the  papists, 
which  was  accordingly  held  upon  the  18th  of  that 
month.  Two  days  after  he  was  brought  before  the 
commissioners,  and  asked,  whether  he  would  sub- 
scribe to  popery,  and,  upon  his  refusal,  was  con- 
demned as  an  heretic  :  upon  which,  he  told  them, 
that  he  appealed  from  their  unjust  sentence  to  the 
Almighty,  who,  he  trusted,  would  receive  him  into 
Ms  glorious  presence,  n  heaven,  since,  for  the  main- 
tainance  of  his  spiritual  presence  at  the  altar,  he  had 
been  condemned  here  on  earth.  After  this,  his  ser- 
vants were  dismissed  from  their  attendance,  and  him- 
self closely  confined  in  prison. 

The  latter  end  of  the  year,  the  convocation,  which 
happened  to  be  composed  generally  of  papists,  as- 
sembled, and  ordered  his  book  on  the  true  nature  of 
the  sacrament  to  be  burnt,  together  with  the  English 
bible  and  common-prayer-book.  Cranmer,  however, 
continued  to  be  more  anxious  for  the  propagation  of 
truth  than  for  his  own  personal  safety.  He,  therefore, 
employed  his  melancholy  hours  in  writing  a  vindica- 
tion of  his  treatise  on  the  Eucharist. 
Early  in  1 5  5  5,  a  new  commission  w^a*  sent  from  Rome, 


for  tlie  trial  of  Cranmer,  the  former  sentence  against 
him,  being  void  in  iavv  ;  because  the  authority  of  the 
Pope  was  not  then  re-established,  in  England.  He, 
accordingly,  on  the  12th  September,  appeared  before 
the  commissioners,  at  Oxford,  where  he  was  accused 
of  blasphemy,  perjury,  incontinence  and  heresy  ;  of 
blasphemy  and  heresy,  for  his  writings  against  popery ; 
of  perjury,  tor  breaking  his  oath  to  the  Pope  ;  and  ot 
incontinence,  on  account  of  his  being  married.  Af- 
ter having  fully  vindicated  himself  from  these  accu- 
sations, he  was  cited  to  appear  at  Rome,  withiji 
eighty  days,  to  answer,  in  person :  this,  however, 
was  only  a  mock  citation,  for  he  was  kept,  all  that 
time,  in  close  confinement;  and  yet,  at  the  end  of 
the  eighty  days,  he  was  declared  contumacious,  for 
not  having  answered  to  the  summons  ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  degraded  and  deprived, 

Cranmer  had,  hitherto,  manifested  much  couragi* 
and  wisdom  in  his  sufferings  -,  but,  at  last,  human 
frailty  made  him  commit  what  has  been  deemvd  a 
most  grievous  error ;  for,  from  various  motives,  es- 
pecially that  of  saving  his  life,  he  was  artfully  drawn 
in  by  the  paptibts,  to  sign  a  recantation,  wherein  he 
renounced  the  Protestant  religion,  and  re-embraced 
Popery.  But  even  this  was  not  sufficient  to  gratify 
the  pioii^  vengeance  of  Mary,  who  was  still  resolved 
to  commit  him  to  the  flames.  On  the  2 1st  of  March, 
1556,  which  was  the  day  appointed  for  that  purpose, 
he  was  brought  to  St.  Mary's  church,  Cambridge, 
and  placed  on  a  kind  of  sta^e  over  ao:ainst  the  pul- 
pit.  Where  Dr.  Cole  was  appointed  to  preach  a  ser- 
mon on  the  occasion.  In  this  discourse,  Cole  attempt- 
ed to  assign  some  reasons,  why  it  was  expedient,  that 
Cranmer  should  suffer,  notwithstanding  his  recanta- 
tion j  and,  in  the  close,  addressed  himself  particu- 
larly to  the  archbishop,  exhorting  him  to  bear  up 
with  courage  against  the  terrors  of  death,  and,  by 
the  example  of  the  thief  on  the  cross,  encouraged  hirn 
not  to  despair,  since  he  was  returned,  though  late. 
Vol.  II.  No.  I  U  T 


146  VEVf  BIOGRAPHUAt 

into  the  bosom  of  the  catholic  church,  and  to  the  pro- 
fession of  the  true  apostolical  faith.  The  archbishop, 
who,  till  that  moment,  had  not  the  least  notice  of 
his  intended  execution,  was  struck  with  the  most  in- 
expressible horror.  During  the  whole  of  the  sermon, 
he  expressed  great  inward  confusion,  sometimes  lift- 
ing up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  sometimes  casting  them 
down  to  the  ground,  with  marks  of  the  utmost  de- 
jection, and  frequently  shedding  tears. 

At  the  end  of  the  sermon,  when  Cole  advised  him 
to  m.ake  a  confession  of  his  faith,  and  give  the  world, 
satisfaction  of  his  dying  a  good  catholic,  he  first  pray- 
ed in  the  most  fervent  manner,  then  made  an  exhort- 
ation to  the  people,  not  to  set  their  minds  on  the 
world,  to  love  each  other  and  to  be  charitable.  Af- 
ter this,  he  made  a  confession  of  his  faith,  beginning 
with  the  creed,  and  concluding  with  these  words : 
"And  I  believe  every  word  and  sentence  taught  by 
our  saviour,  Jesus  Christ,  his  apostles  and  prophets, 
in  the  Old  and  New  Testatament.  And  now,*'  added 
he,  "  I  come  to  the  great  thing  that  so  much  troubleth 
Kiy  conscience,  and  that  is  setting  abroad  a  writing, 
imder  my  own  hand,  contrary  to  the  truth,  which  I 
thought  in  my  heart ;  and  written  for  fear  of  death 
and  to  save  my  life,  if  it  might  be  ;  that  is,  all  such 
bills  and  papers,  which  I  have  written  or  signed  with 
jmy  hand,  since  my  degradation,  wherein  1  have  writ- 
ten many  things  untrue.  And,  forasmuch  as  my 
hand  oflended,  in  writing  contrary  to  my  heart,  my 
hand  shall  first  be  punished  -,  for,  when  1  come  to 
the  fire,  it  shall  he  burned  first.  As  for  the  Pope,  I 
refuse  him,  as  Christ's  enemy  and  Antichrist,  with 
all  his  false  doctrines." 

Thunderstruck  with  this  unexpected  declaration, 
the  enraged  popish  crowd  admonished  him  not  to 
<iissemble  :  "  Ah  !'*  replied  he,  ■'  since  I  lived,  hither- 
to, 1  have  been  a  hater  of  falsehood,  and  a  lover  of 
simplicity,  and  never  before  this  time,  have  I  dis- 
sembled :"  upon  which,  they  pulled  him  off  the  stage. 


DICTIONARY.  147 

with  the  greatest  fury,  and  hurried  him  to  the  place 
of  execution,  over  against  Baliol  college,  where  he 
was  fastened  with  a  chain  to  the  stake.  Some  press- 
ing him  to  agree  to  his  tormer  recantation,  he  answer- 
ed, shewing  his  hand,  "  This  is  the  hand  that  wrote 
it,  and,  therefore,  it  shall  first  suffer  punishment." 
When  fire  was  applied  to  him,  he  stretched  out  his 
right  hand  into  the  flames,  and  held  it  there,  unmov- 
ed, crying,  with  a  loud  voice,  "  This  hand  hath  of- 
fended j"  and  often  repeating,  "  This  unworthy  right 
hand/'  At  last,  the  fire  getting  up,  he  soon  expir- 
ed, with  his  eyes  fixed  to  heaven,  exclaiming, 
"  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit." 

He  was  an  open,  generous  and  honest  man;  a 
lover  of  truth,  and  an  enemy  of  falshood  and  super- 
stition ;  he  was  gentle  .and  moderate  in  his  temper, 
and,  though  heartily  zealous  in  the  cause  of  the  Re- 
formation, yet  a  friend  to  the  persons  of  those,  who 
most  strenuously  opposed  it.  He  was  a  great  patron 
of  learning  and  of  the  universities:  a  very  learned 
man  himself,  and  author  of  a  number  of  publications, 
most  of  which  are  written  in  vindication  of  the  essen- 
tial doctrines  of  the  Protestant  religion. 


CRICHTON  (JaxMes,)  was  a  Scotch  gentleman,, 
born,  as  it  is  supposed,  in  the  year  1560,  who,  on  ac- 
count of  his  extraordinary  endowments  of  body  and 
mind,  obtained  the  appellation  of  the  Adinirahle  Crick- 
ton,  by  which  title  he  has  continued  to  be  distin- 
guished down  to  the  present  day.  The  accounts 
given  of  his  abilities  and  attainments  are  indeed  so 
wonderful,  that  they  seem  scarcely  to  be  credible^ 
and  many  persons  have  been  disposed  to  consider 
them  as  almost  entirely  fabulous,  though  they  have 
been  delivered  with  the  utmost  confidence  and  with- 
out any  degree  of  hesitation,  by  various  authors  of  es- 
tablished veracity. 

He  is  said  to  have  received  his  grammatical  educa- 


1"4^  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAIr 

tion  at  Perth,  and  to  have  studied  philosophy  in  thaj' 
university  of  St.  Andrev^' ;  v;e  are  likewise,  told  that 
when  he  had  scarcely  attained  his  twentieth  year,  he 
had  run  through  the  v\hole  circle  of  the  sciences  and 
could  speak  and  write  to  perfection  in  ten  different 
]anf  cages.  Nor  was  this  all :  for  he  had,  likewise, 
improved  himself,  to  the  highest  degree,  in  riding,  dan- 
cing and  singing,  and  in  playing  upon  all  sorts  of  mu-r 
bical  instruments. 

Thus  accomplished,  Crichton  went  abroad,  and  is 
said  to  have  gone  to  Paris  ;  where  he  caused  placards 
fobe  fixed  on  all  the  gates  of  the  schools,  halls  and  col- 
leges belonging  to  the  university,  and  en  all  the  hous- 
es, of  the  most  renowned  men  for  literature  in  the  city^ 
inviting  all  ihose,  who  were  well  versed  in  any  art 
or  science  to  dispute  with  him  in  the  college  of  Na- 
varre, that  day  six  weeks,  by  9  oVlock  in  the  morning, 
vvh^re  he  w^ould  attend  them  and  be  ready  to  answer 
to  whatever  should  be  proposed  to  him  in  any  art  or 
science  and  in  any  of  <he  12  languages,  Hebrew,  Sy- 
riac,  Arabic,  Greek,  Latin,  Spanish,  French,  Italian, 
English,  Dutch,  Flemish  and  Sclavonian  :  and  this 
cither  in  verse  or  prose,  at  the  <liscretion  of  the  dis- 
putant. 

During  this  whole  time,  instead  of  closely  applying 
to  his  studies,  he  regarded  nothing  but  hunting,  hawk- 
ing, tilting,  vaulting,  riding,  tossing  the  pike,  hand- 
ling the  musket,  and  other  n:iilitary  feats ;  or  else  he 
employed  himself  in  domestip  games,  such  as  balls, 
concerts  of  nmsic,  cards,  dice,  &c.  This  conduct  so 
provoked  the  students  of  the  university,  that  under 
the  placard,  which  was  fixed  on  the  Navarre  gate, 
they  caused  the  following  words  to  be  j^laced :  *^  If  you 
would  meet  with  this  miOnster  of  pertection,  to  make 
search  for  him  either  in  the  brothel  or  tavern,  is  the 
surest  way  to  find  him."  Nevertheless,  when  the  day 
appointed  arrived,Crichton  appeared  in  the  college  of 
Navarre,  and  acquitted  himself  beyond  expression  in 
the  disputation^  which  lasted  from  9  o'clock  in  the 


f>ICTIONARY.  149 

triorning,  till  6  at  night.  At  kngth  the  president, 
after  extolling  him  highly  tor  the  many  rare  and  excel- 
lent endowments,  which  the  z\lmighty  had  bestowed 
upon  him,  rose  from  his  chair  and  accompanied  by 
four  of  the  most  eminent  professors  of  the  university- 
gave  him  a  diamond  ring  as  a  testimony  of  theiresteem. 
The  whole  ended  with  the  repeated  acclamations  of 
the  Spectators,  and  henceforward  our  young  dispu- 
tant was  called  the  Admirable  Crichton,  It  is  added, 
that  he  was  so  little  fatigued  with  the  dispute,  that 
he  went,  the  very  next  day  to  the  Louvre,  where  he 
had  a  match  of  tilting,  and  in  the  presence  of  some 
of  the  French  princes,  and  a  number  of  spectators, 
carried  away  the  ring  15  times  successively. 

About  two  years  after  this,  we  find  him  at  Rome, 
where  he  affixed  a  Latin  placard  upon  all  the  eminent 
places  Of  the  citv,   in  the  following  terms,  "  1  James 
Crichton   a    Scotchman,  will   answer  any    question, 
which  shall  be  proposed   to  me,  without  being  pre- 
viously advertised  of  it."     In  a  city  which  abounds 
in  wir,  this  bold  challenge  could  not  escape  the  ridi- 
cule of  a  pasquinade.     It  is  said,  however,  that  be- 
ing nowise  discouraged,   he  appeared  at  the  time  and 
place  appointed  ;  and,  thatp    in  the    presence  of  thr 
Pope,   many  cardinals,  bishops,  doctors  of  divinity, 
.  and  professors  in  all  the  sciences,  he   displayed  such 
wonderful  proofs  of  his  universal  knowledge,  that  he 
excited  no  less  surpiise  than  he  had  done  at  Paris. 

From  Rome  he  went  to  Venice,  where  he  contract- 
ed an  intim.ate  friendship  with  all  the  most  learned 
men,  to  whom  he  presented  several  poems  in  commen- 
dation of  the  city  and  university.     At  length,  he  was 
introduced  to  the  Doge  and  Senate,  in  whose  pre- 
sence he  made  a  speech, which  was  accompanied  with 
I  such  eloquence,  and  grace  of  person  and  manner,  that 
he  received  the  thanks  cf  that  illustrious  body ;  and 
nothing  was  talked  of  through  the  whole  city,  but 
!  this  prodigy  of  nature.  He  held,  likewise,  various  dis- 
putations on  theology  and  mathematics,  in  which  he 


150  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

always  supported  his  credit,  and  maintained  his  pro- 
positions with  the  highest  applause  from  a  vast  con- 
course  of  people. 

After  having  distinguished  himself  in  this  manner 
at  Venice,  and  afterwards  at  Padua,  he  set  out  for 
Mantua,  where  there  was,  at  that  time,  a  gladiator, 
who  had  foiled,  in  his  travels,  the  m.ost  famous  fen- 
cers in  Europe,  and  had  lately  killed  three  persons, 
who  had  entered  the  lists  with  him  in  that  city. — 
The  Duke  of  Mantua  was  much  grieved,  at  having 
granted  this  man  his  protection,  as  he  found  it  to  be 
attended  with  such  fatal  consequences.  Crichton  be- 
ing informed  ot  his  Highnesses  concern,  offered  his  ser- 
vice, not  only  to  drive  the  murderer  from  Mantua  but 
from  Italy,  and  to  fight  him  for  a  large  sum  of  money. 
Though  the  Duke  was  unwilling  to  expose  such  an 
accomplished  gentleman  to  so  great  a  hazard,  yet,  re- 
lying upon  the  report  he  had  heard  of  his  warhke  at- 
chievements,  he  agreed  to  the  proposal,  and  the  time 
and  place  being  agreed  on,  the  whole  court  attended 
to  behold  the  event.  At  the  begining  of  the  combat, 
Crichton  stood  only  upon  his  defence,  while  the  Ital- 
ian made  his  attack  with  such  eagerness  and  fury,  that 
Jiaving  over-acted  himself,  he  began  to  grow  weary. 
Our  young  Scotchman  now  siezed  the  opportunity  of 
attacking  his  antagonist,  which  he  did  with  so  much 
dexterity,  and  vigour,  that  he  ran  him  through  the  bo- 
dy in  three  different  places,  of  which  wounds  he  im- 
mediately died.  The  acclamations  of  the  spectators 
were  loud  upon  this  occasion  ;  and  it  was  acknow- 
ledged by  all,  that  they  had  never  seen  art  assist 
nature,  nor  nature  second  the  principles  of  art  in  so 
lively  a  manner,  as  they  had  beheld  that  day.  To 
crown  the  glory  of  the  action,  Crichton  bestowed  the 
prize  of  his  victory  upon  the  widows  of  the  three  per- 
sons, who  had  lost  their  lives  in  fighting  with  the  gla- 
diator. 

It  is  asserted,  that,  in  consequence  of  this  and  his 
other  wonderful  preformances,  the  Duke  of  Mantua 


DICTIONARY.  151 

Blade  choice  of  him  as  preceptor  to  his  son,  Gonzaga, 
who  is  represented  to  have  been  a  young  man  of  a 
riotous  temper  and  dissolute  life.  The  appointment 
was  highly  pleasing,  to  the  court.  Crichton  to  testify 
his  gratitude  to  his  friends  and  benefactors,  and  to 
contribute  to  their  diversion,  framed  a  comedy,  where- 
in he  exposed  and  ridiculed  all  the  weaknesses  and 
failures  of  the  several  employments,  in  which  men  are 
engaged.  This  composition  was  regarded  as  one  of 
the  most  ingt^nious  satires  which  ever  was  made  upon 
mankind.  But  the  most  astonishing  part  of  the  story 
is,  that  Crichton  sustained,  with  great  success,  fifteen 
characters  in  the  representation  of  his  own  play. 

From,  being  the  principle  actor  in  a  comedy,  Crich- 
ton soon  became  the  subject  of  a  dreadful  tragedy. — 
One  night  during  the  Carnival,  as  he  was  walking 
along  the  streets  of  Mantua,  and  playing  upon  his 
guitar,  he  was  attacked  by  six  men  in  masks,  The 
assailants  found,  that  they  had  no  ordinaiy  person  to 
deal  with,  for  they  were  not  able  to  maintain  their 
ground  against  him.  In  the  issue,  the  leader  of  the 
company  being  disarmed,  pulled  off  his  mask,  and 
begged  his  life,  telling  him,  that  he  was  the  Prince, 
his  pupil.  Crichton  immediately  began  to  apologize 
for  the  mistake,  alledging,  that  what  he  had  done,  was 
only  in  his  own  defence,  and  that  if  his  highness  had 
any  design  upon  his  life,he  might  always  be  master  of 
it.  Then  taking  his  own  sword  by  the  point,  he  pre- 
sented it  to  the  Prince,  who  instead  of  rewarding  him 
for  his  generosity,  instantly  ran  him  through  the  heart. 
Various  have  been  the  conjectures,  concerning  the 
motives,  which  could  induce  Gonzaga,  to  the  com- 
mission of  so  brutal  and  ungenerous  an  action.  Some 
have  ascribed  it  to  jealousy,  asserting  that  he  sus- 
pected Crichton  to  be  more  in  favor  than  himself  with 
a  lady,  whom  he  passionately  loved,  whilst  others  re- 
present the  whole  transaction  as  the  result  of  a  drun- 
ken frolic.  It  is,  however,  agreed,  on  all  hands  that 
the  Admirable  Crichton,  whom  all  the  historians  agree 


152  KEW    BlOGRAPHICAi; 


in  representing  as  the  wonder  of  the  age,  lost  his  life 
in  this  unworthy  manner. 

His  tragical  end  excited  universal  lamentation. — ■ 
The  whole  court  of  Mantua  went  three  quarters  of  a 
year  into  mourning  for  him,  and  the  report  of  so  sad 
catastrophe  excited  the  most  poignant  regret  through 
every  part  of  Europe.  His  death  happened  in  loSS, 
when  he  was  only  in  his  23d,  year. 

CROMWELL  (Oliver),  Lord  Protector  of  the 
commonwealth  of  England,  and  one  of  the  most  ex- 
traordinary personages  mentioned  in  history,  was  the 
son  of  Mr.  Robert  Cromwell  of  Hinchinbrook,  in  the 
county  of  Huntingdon,  by  a  lady  of  the  name  ot  Stu- 
art, by  some,  said  to  have  been  descended  from  the 
Royal  Family.  Oliver  was  born  in  the  parish  of  St. 
John,  Huntmgdon,  on  the  25th  of  April  1599  and  ed- 
ucated at  the  free  school  of  that  tov/n.  It  is  related 
by  authors  of  unsuspected  veracity,  that  when  at  school 
he  gave  many  signs  of  a  turbulent  and  restless  dispo- 
sition. He  is  also  said,  from  his  early  years,  to  have 
been  subject  to  great  disorders  of  imagination,  from 
which  he  was  not  altogether  free  durmg  his  whole 
life. 

From  Huntingdon,  he  was  removed  to  Sidney  col- 
lege, Cambridge,  in  1616,  but  his  father  dying  in 
about  two  years  after,  he  returned  home,  where  the 
irregularity  of  his  life  is  said  to  have  given  great  unea- 
siness to  his  mother.  His  dissipation,however,could  be 
but  of  short  continuance,  for  he  was  married  before 
he  was  21  years  of  age,  soon  after  which  he  returned 
to  the  country,  near  Fluntingdon,  where  he  led  a  ve- 
ly  grave  and  sober  life.  Here  he  continued,  till  an 
estate  of  about  2,500  Dollars  per-annum  devolving 
upon  him,  by  the  death  of  his  uncle  Sir  Thomas  -Stu- 
art, induced  him  to  retire  to  the  isle  of  Elly.  It  was 
about  this  time,  that  he  began  to  fall  off  from  the  esta- 
tlished  church,  and   to  converse   with  the  Puritans^ 


DICTIONARY*  153 

v/hose  notions  he  soon  after  embraced  with  his  usual 
Warmth.  He  was  also  elected  a  member  of  the  3d 
parliament  of  King  Charles  I.  which  met  on  the  20th 
January  1628  ;  and  was  a  member  of  the  committee 
for  religion,  where  he  greatly  distinguished  himself  by 
his  zeal  against  popery. 

After  the  dissolution  of  that  parliament,  he  return- 
ed again  into  the  country,  where  he  continued  to  ex- 
press much  concern  for  religion,  to  keep  company  with 
silenced  ministers  and  to  invite  them  often  to  lectures 
and  sermons  at  his  house.  Thus  he  brought  his  af- 
fairs again  into  a  very  indifferent  situation,  so  that 
by  way  of  reparring  the  breaches  he  had  made  in  his 
fortune,  he  took  a  farm  at  St.  Ives,  which  he  kept 
five  years  ;  but  which  instead  of  repairing,  helped  to 
run  out  the  remainder  of  it,  and  had  totally  undone 
him,  if  he  had  not  thrown  it  up.  Chagrined  at  last  with 
his  various  disappointments,  and  the  injurious  treat- 
ment to  which  his  party  was  then  subjected,  he  form- 
ed the  resolution  of  removing  to  New-England,  and 
had  actually  engaged  for  his  passage  in  1637.  He 
was,  however,  prevented  from  putting  his  design  into 
execution,  by  the  King*s  proclamation,  which  was  is- 
sued, at  that  very  time,  prohibiting  such  emigrations. 
So  that  by  this  stretch  of  arbitary  power,  Cromwell, 
who,  not  long  after  overthrew  the  regal  authority,  was 
compelled  to  remain  in  England,  contrary  to  his  in- 
clination. 

Although,  during  the  ensuing  year,  his  private  af- 
fairs continued  still  to  decline,  yet  he  was  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  get  himself  elected  as  representative  in  the 
long  parliament,  for  the  town  of  Cambridge,  and 
owed  his  seat  chiefly  to  the  influence  of  one  Richard 
Tims  a  tradesman,  with  whom  he  had  become  inti- 
mate in  the  puritanical  meetings,  which  he  constantly 
frequented,  and  where  he  had  most  eminently  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  his  gifts,  as  they  were  stiled  in 
those  days,  in  preaching,  praying,  and  expounding 
ihe  scriptures. 

Vol.11.  No.  11.  U 


154^  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

When  he  came  into  parliament,  he  was 
constant  in  his  attendance,  and  a  frequent  speaker, 
though  he  did  not,  at  that  time,  discover  any  of  the 
great  qualities,  which  afterwards  appeared,  and 
which  seem  to  have  been  called  out  as  occasion  re- 
quired. He  affected  not  only  plainness,  but  careless- 
ness of  dress;  was  very  uniform  in  his  conduct,  and 
spoke  warmly  and  roundly,  but  without  either  art  or 
elocution.  He  was  very  forward  in  censuring  griev- 
ances, both  in  church  and  state,  though  he  had  not 
framed  to  himself  any  settled  plan  of  reformation. 
This  he  frankly  acknowledged,  with  respect  to  eccle- 
siastical affairs,  when  pressed  by  some  gentlemen,  to 
declare  his  sentiments  on  that  subject,  **  I  can  tell, 
says  Mr.  Cromwell,  what  I  would  not  have,  though 
I  cannot  tell  what  I  would  have/'  Thus,  like  too 
manv  of  the  reformers,  who  have  existed  since  his 
day,  he  was  ready  to  pull  down  every  ancient  estab- 
lishment, before  he  had  bestowed  a  single  thought  on 
the  best  mode  of  rebuilding  them.  He  continued  in 
warm  opposition  to  all  the  measures  of  the  court,  till 
the  beginning  of  1642,  when  the  king  and  parlia- 
ment came  to  an  open  rupture.  On  this  occasion, 
Cromwell  shewed  his  activity,  by  going  immediately 
to  Cambridge,  where  he  soon  raised  a  troop  of  horse^ 
of  which  he  was  appointed  commander.  He  fixed 
his  head  quarters  there,  where  he  acted  with  great 
severity,  especially  towards  the  university,  after  he 
had  missed  seizing  the  plate,  contributed  by  the  loyal 
colleges  for  the  king's  service,  and  which  they  had, 
at  that  very  time,  sent  down  to  him  at  Nottingham, 
where  he  had  erected  his  standard.  He  was  more 
successful  in  his  next  enterprize;  for,  being  inform- 
ed, that  the  king  had  issued  his  writ  to  Sir  Thomas 
Coningsby,  sheriff  of  Hertfordshire,  requiring  him  to 
proclaim  the  Earl  of  Essex,  and  his  adherents,  trai- 
tors, Cromwell  marched  with  his  troop  directly  to  St. 
Albans,  where  he  seized  Sir  Thomas  for  that  action, 
and  carried  him  prisoner  to  London.     For  this  ex- 


DICTIONARY.  155 

pioit,  he  received  the  thanks  of  parliament,  and  was 
ajoon  after  promoted  to  the  con\mand  of  1000  horse, 
with  the  title  of  colonel.  It  is  very  strange,  but 
strictly  true,  that  though  Cromwell  was  in  his  43d 
year,  when  he  first  assumed  the  military  character, 
yet,  in  the  space  of  a  few  months,  he  not  only  gain- 
ed the  reputation  of  an  officer,  but  really  became  a 
good  one  j  and  still  stranger,  that  by  mere  dint  of 
discipline,  he  made  his  new-raised  men,  excellent 
soldiers,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  that  invincible 
strength,  which  he  afterwards  exerted  with  so  great 
success,  to  answer  his  own  purposes. 

The  limits  of  our  work  will  not  suffer  us  to  enter  into 
a  detail  of  all  Cromwell's  exploits,  in  the  course  of  the 
civil  war,  we  shall,  therefore,  content  ourselves,  v^th 
mentioning,  in  a  general  way,  some  few  of  the  most 
remarkable,  referring  our  readers  to  the  histories  of 
England,  for  more  particular  information.  In  the  spring 
of  the  year  1643,  he  advanced  v/ith  his  army  into  Lin- 
colnshire,  where  he.  did  great  service  to  the  cause  he 
had  espoused,  by  restraining  the  king's  garrison  at  New^- 
ark,  by  which  he  exceedingly  increased  his  credit  witli 
the  parliament.  The  Scots  having  been  invited  to  Eng- 
land by  the  parliament,  it  was  judged  requisite,  that 
the  army  under  the  Earl  of  Manchester  and  Cromwell, 
who  was  now  declared  lieutenant  general  of  the  horse, 
should  join  them,  the  better  to  enable  them  to  reduce 
York,  which  they  had  closely  besieged. 

This  service  was  perforn-jed  with  great  vigour  and 
diligence,  more  especially  by  Cromwell,  v/bose  friends 
at  Westminster,  knowing  that  they  might  depend 
upon  him,  took  care  to  put  as  much  \a  his  power  as 
they  possibly  could.  In  the  battle  of  Marston-moor, 
fought  on  the  3d  July,  16 14,  Cromwell's  cavalry, 
who  were  commonly  styled  Ironsides,  changed  the 
fortune  of  the  day,  as  that  did  of  the  war.  He  Vv^as 
also,  in  the  second  battle,  at  Newbury,  on  the  I7th 
September  in  the  same  year,  where,  with  his  horse, 
he  so  boldly  charged  the  guards^  that  his  majesty's 


156  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

person  had  been  In  the  utmost  danger,  had  not  the 
old  Earl  of  Cleveland  preserved  liis  master's  liberty  at 
the  expence  of  his  own.  In  the  winter  following, 
when  the  debates  in  parliament  ran  higher  than  ever, 
nothing  but  Cromwell's  merit  was  talked  of  by  his 
party,  some  of  whom  blasphemously  styled  him  "  the 
saviour  of  the  nation." 

In  the  mean  time,  the  wisest  men  and  the  best  pat- 
riots saw  very  clearly,  whither  these  excessive  praises 
tended,  and  that  the  nation  might  be  made  as  sensible 
in  that  respect  as  themselves,  the  Earl  of  Manchester 
exhibited  a  charge  against  Cromwell  in  the  house  of 
Lords,  and  Cromwell  to  be  even  with  him,  brought  in 
another  against  the  Earl,in  the  house  of  commons.  It  is 
true,  that  neither  of  these  charges  were  prosecuted :  yet 
Crornwell  and  his  friends  carried  their  point,  by  bring- 
ing in  what  was  called  the  self-denying  ordinance, 
which  excluded  the  miCmbers  of  both  houses  from 
having  any  comm.and  in  the  army,  from  which,  how- 
ever, Cromwell,  on  account  of  his  extraordinary 
inerit,  was  at  first  occasionally,  and  at  last,  absolute- 
ly exempted. 

From  being  Lieutenant  General  of  the  horse,  he 
became  Lieutenant  General  of  the  army,  after  which 
he  still  continued  to  distinguish  himself  by  his  milita- 
ry successes.  He  shone  particularly  at  the  battle  of 
Naseby,  June  14th,  1645,  and  also  had  his  share,  in 
reducing  the  western  counties,  till  upan  the  surren- 
der of  Exeter,  April  the  13th,  1646,  he  found  leisure 
to  return  to  London.  Upon  taking  his  seat  in  the 
house,  thanks  were  returned  to  him  in  as  strong  terms 
as  words  could  express,  and  the  prevailing  party 
there  received  from  him  such  encouragement,as  induc- 
ed them  to  believe,  that  he  was  wholly  at  their  devo- 
tion. But  in  this  they  were  mistaken  ;  for,  while  they 
thought  the  lieutenant  general  was  solely  employed  in 
their  business,  he  was  in  reality  only  attending  to  his 
own.  Thus,  when  the  parliament  inclined  to  disband 
a  part  of  their  forces,  after  the  king  had  delivered  him- 


DICTIONARY.  157 

sejf  to  the  Scots,  who  had  agreed  to  give  him  up  to  the 
parliament, Cromwell  opposed  it  vigorously  if  notopen- 
]y.  For,  in  the  first  place,  he  insinuated,  by  his  emi- 
saries,  to  the  soldiers,  that  this  was  not  only  the  high- 
est ingratitude  towards  those,  who  had  so  faithfully 
fought  the  battles  of  parliament,  but  also  a  crying  act 
of  injustice,  as  it  w^as  done  with  no  other  view  than 
to  cheat  them  of  their  arrears.  Seccondly,  he  procured 
an  exemption  for  Sir  Thomas  Fairfaxes  army,  or,  in  other 
words,  for  his  own ,  the  general  only  having  the  title 
whilst  Cromwell  had  all  the  power,  and  the  reduction 
fell  chiefly  upon  those  troops,  of  whom  he  had  good 
reason  to  doubt,  and  upon  whom  the  parliament 
might  have  placed  the  greatest  dependence.  Thus  he 
dexterously  turned  to  his  own  advantage,  the  means, 
which  w^ere,  in  truth,  contrived  for  his  destruction. 
On  the  12th  of  November  1616,  the  army  marched 
triumphantly  to  London,  and  in  the  beginning  of  the 
February  following,  the  Scots  delivered  up  the  king 
who  was  carried  prisoner  to  Holmby.  At  this  time 
Cromwell  had  a  very  nice  game  to  play.  What  wore 
the  legal  appearance  of  power,  was  evidently  in  the 
hands  of  the  parliament,  in  which  the  prcsbyteriaii 
party  was  still  prevalent,  and,  as  the  general  Sir  Thom- 
as Fairfax  was,  likewise  in  that  interest,  it  looked  as  if 
the  real  power  was  also  on  that  side.  At  the  bottom  how- 
ever, the  army,  now  taught  to  know  their  own  strength 
were  in  reality  the  masters,  and  they  were  entirely  di- 
rected by  Cromwell, though  they  did  not  know  it  them- 
selves. He  saw  the  necessity  of  having  a  strong  place, 
and  getting  the  King's  person  into  their  power,  and  he 
contrived  to  do  both  without  seeming  to  have  a  hand  in 
cither.  Oxford  was,  at  that  time,  in  a  good  condition 
and  well  supplied  with  artilery,  upon  wliich  thearmv 
seitred  it  w^ith  the  magazines  and  every  thing  else,  and 
Cromwell,  then  at  London,  prevailed  upon  a  cornet 
Joyce,  to  seize  the  king's  person,  not  only  without 
the  orders  of  general  Fairfax,  but  even  without  any 
orders  at  all,  except  those  verbal  instructions  from 


i58  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

Cromwell.  This  was  executed,  June  4ih  1647,  aU 
though  the  parliament's  commissioners  were  then  with 
the,^ing,  who  was  conducted  from  Holmby  to  the 
army's  head-quarters  at  Childersley,  in  Cambridge- 
shire. Here,  through  the  management  of  Cromwell 
the  king  was  treated  with  so  great  reverence  and  civi- 
lity, that,  when  general  Fairfax,  Vv^ho  was  displeased 
at  his  being  taken  away,  would  have  sent  him  back 
again,  under  a  strong  guard,  he  absolutely  refused  to 
move. 

Soon  after  this,  a  new  party  sprung  up  among  the 
soldiers,  under  the  titk  of  Levellers,  who  made  no 
secret  of  their  hating  both  king  and  parliament,  and 
it  was  to  save  himself  from  those  people,  who,  as  he 
was  informed  by  Cromwell,  sought  his  life,  that  the 
king,  on  the  11th  November,  fled  to  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  after  having,  by  the  advice  of  Cromwell,  and 
his  son-in-law  commissary  Ire  ton,  rejected  the  par- 
liament's proposals.  It  would  be  foreign  to  our  pur- 
pose to  enter  into  a  minute  detail  of  the  various  steps, 
which  Cromwell  pursued,  to  aggrandize  the  power 
of  the  army,  at  the  expence  of  both  king  and  parlia- 
ment. His  principal  object  was,  to  widen  the  breach 
between  them  as  far  as  possible;  but  notwithstand- 
ing his  utmost  efforts  to  prevent  it,  the  Commons  set 
on  foot  a  personal  treaty  with  the  king,  at  the  Isle  of 
Wight  iu  Sept.  1648,  and  soon  after,  voted  his  majes- 
ty's concessions  satisfactory.  An  attempt  was  also 
made  to  impeach  Cromv/ell  of  high  treason.  But 
the  army  being  greatly  displeased  at  these  proceed- 
ings, on  November  the  20th,  sent  a  remonstrance  to 
the  house  of  Commons,  disapproving  all  they  had 
done,  and  in  the  mean  time.  Colonel  Ewers  prc>ceed- 
cd  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  where  he  seized  the  per- 
son of  the  king,  and  on  the  1st  December  following, 
lodged  him  in  HurdcastJe,  where  he  was  closely 
confined.  This  was  highly  resented  by  the  parliament, 
who  commanded  the  general  to  recall  his  orders;  but, 
instead  of  this,  the  army  marched  immediately  to 


DICTIONARY.  15^ 

London,  purged  the  house  of  Commons,  that  is,  turn- 
ed out  those  members,  whose  sentiments  they  did  not 
approve  of,  and  compelled  the  rest  to  do  what  they 
pleased.  In  most  of  these  proceedings,  Cromwell 
appeared  very  active,  and  is,  with  good  reason,  be- 
lieved to  have  directed  them  all. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  upon  those  particularly 
well  known  circumstances,  relating  to  the  king's 
trial,  and  to  the  sentence  of  death  passed  upon  him, 
since  the  part  Cromwell  acted  therein  was  open  and 
public.  He  sat  in  the  court,  he  signed  the  warrant, 
and  he  prosecuted  the  accomplishment  of  it,  till  the 
execution  of  the  king,  which  took  place  on  the  SOth^ 
January,  1649.  When  the  first  proposition  was  made 
in  the  house  of  Commons  for  trying  the  king,  he  said, 
that  "  if  any  man  moved  this  upon  design,  he  should 
think  him  the  greatest  traitor  in  the  world,  but  since 
providence  and  necessity  had  cast  them  upon  it,  he 
should  pray  God  to  bless  their  councils,  though  he 
was  not  provided,  on  the  sudden,  to  give  them  coun- 
sel.'* Soon  after,  however,  he  was  at  no  loss  how 
to  act,  for  being  a  great  pretender  to  revelations,  he 
gravely  told  them,  that  as  he  was  praying  to  God  for 
a  blessing  from  him,  on  his  undertaking  to  restore 
the  king  to  his  pristine  majesty,  his  tongue  cleaved 
to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  and  that  he  could  not  speak 
one  word  more,  which  he  considered  as  a  return  of 
prayer,  that  God  had  rejected  him  from  being  king. 
Many  applications  were  made  to  Cromwell,  for  sav- 
ing the  king's  life,  but  he  rejected  them  all,  under 
the  specious  pretext,  that  God  had  ordered  his  death. 

The  governmiCnt  being  now  entirely  changed,  for 
in  five  days  after  the  death  of  the  king,  the  house  of 
T^rds  was  voted  useless,  it  became  necessary  to 
think  of  some  expedient  for  managing  the  executive 
power.  It  was,  therefore,  resolved  to  set  up  a  coun- 
cil of  State,  of  which  John  Bradshaw  was  president, 
and  Cromwell  a  principal  member.  But  before  he 
had  well  taken  possession  of  this  new  dignity,  he 


160  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAl 

found  himselt  placed  in  circumstances,  at  least  as 
hazardous,  as  any  in  which  he  had  hitherto  been  con- 
cerned. The  persons  he  had  to  engage  with,  were 
part  or  the  otncers  of  his  own  army,  who,  being  dis- 
satistied,  expressed  their  sentiments  in  a  remonstrance, 
which  they  presented  to  the  general.  For  this  hei- 
nous  offence,  they  were  tried  by  a  court  martial,  and 
sentenced  to  ride  with  their  faces  to  their  horses  tails, 
at  the  head  of  their  respective  corps,  w^ith  a  paper  ex- 
pressing their  crime  lixed  on  their  backs,  after  which 
their  swords  were  to  be  broke  over  their  heads,  and 
themselves  cashiered,  every  circumstance  of  which 
was  strictly  executed.  This,  however,  served  only 
to  increase  the  Hame,  for  several  regiments  of  horse, 
and  among  the  rest  his  own,  mutinied,  put  white 
cockades  in  their  hats,  and  appointed  a  redezvous  at 
A\  are,  where  Cromwell  appeared,  at  the  head  of 
some  regiments,  on  w  honi  he  could  fuiiv  depend,  at 
a  time,  when  he  was  least  expected.  Here  without 
any  previous  expostulations,  he,  with  two  regiments 
of  horse,  surrounded  one  regiment  of  the  mutineers, 
and  caliinsr  four  men  bv  name  out  ot  the  ranks,  obli^- 
ed  them  to  cast  dice  tor  their  lives,  and  gave  orders 
to  the  two,  who  escaped,  to  shoot  the  others,  with 
which  they  immediately  complied.  By  these  and 
some  other  examples  equally  decisive,  he  soon  reduc- 
ed the  disafiected  to  a  state  of  complete  subordination, 
and  returned  to  the  city  of  London,  where  he  was  re- 
ceived with  the  highest  honours.  At  this  time,  Eng- 
land being  totally  subdued,  Cromwell,  in  August 
164:9,  etnbarked  with  an  army  for  Ireland,  where  his 
successes  were  attended  with  so  few  disappointments, 
that,  by  the  month  of  June  1650,  he  had,  in  a  great 
measure,  subdued  it.  His  presence  being  then  neces- 
sary in  England,  after  having  appointed  Ireton  as  his 
deputy,  he  took  shipping  for  Bristol,  where,  after  a 
dangerous  passage,  he  safelv  arrived,  leaving  such  a 
terror  upon  the  minds  of  the   Irish,  as  made  every 


DICTIONARY.  IGl 

thing  easy  to  those  who  succeeded  him,  and  com- 
pleted the  conquest  of  the  country. 
d-T'Soon  after  his  return  to  London,  the  Scots  being 
determined  to  restore  monarchy,  in  the  person  of 
Charles  II.  whom  they  had  recalled  from  abroad, 
were  making  preparations  to  invade  England.  On 
this  emergency,  Cromwell  was  appointed  general 
and  commander  in  chief  of  all  the  forces  of  the 
commonwealth,  and  dispatched  with  an  army  to 
Scotland,  where  on  the  3d  September,  he  gained  the 
victory  at  Dunbar,  than  Vv'hich,  none  ever  did  him 
greater  credit  as  a  commander. 

During  his  stay  in  Scotland,  he  was  extremely  de- 
sirous to  gain  over  the  Presbyterians,  whom  he  clear- 
ly perceived  to  be  adverse  to  his  ambitious  designs, 
and  as  the  following  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the 
means  he  had  recourse  to,  to  effect  his  purpose,  we 
presume  it  may  prove  acceptable  to  our  readers.  A 
clergyman  of  the  name  of  Wishart,  in  one  of  the 
churches  of  Glasgow,  had  the  courage  to  inveigh 
against  the  regicides,  even  in  the  presence  of  Crom- 
well, surrounded  by  the  obedient  satellites  of  his 
power.  A  general  olHcer,  who  sat  next  to  Cromwell, 
enraged  at  the  unceremonious  freedom  of  the  preacher, 
asked  him  in  a  whisper  loud  enough  to  be  overheard 
by  others,  if  he  should  shoot  the  old  dog.  "  No,*' 
said  Cromwell,  "  leave  him  to  me.'*  After  divine 
service,  Cromwell  sent  to  invite  the  clergyman  to 
supper,  when,  instead  of  the  severe  reprimand  he  ex- 
pected, he  received  Cromwell's  thanks  for  the  abili- 
ty and  zeal,  which  he  had  displayed  in  his  sermon; 
lamenting,  at  the  same  time,  that  his  zeal,  in  some 
respects,  was  not  more  under  the  guidance  of  know- 
ledge. He  then  endeavoured  to  set  Mr.  Wishart 
right,  in  several  material  particulars,  in  which  he  was 
misinformed  or  mistaken.  Supper  being  served  up, 
Cromwell  rose,  and,  by  way  of  a  grace,  poured  forth 
a  long  prayer,  with  his  usual  sanctimonious  cant  and 
grimace.  After  sapper,  he  repeated  the  same  phari- 
Vol.  II.  No.  11/  X 


!6^  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

saical  farce,  and  in  short,  so  dexterously  did  the  arch- 
hypocrite  work  on  the  good  man*s  honest  simplicity, 
that  he  went  home  quite  convinced  of  the  purity  and 
integrity  of  Crom weirs  intention,  and  being  a  very 
popular  preacher,  he  contributed  greatly  to  remove 
the  groundless  jealousies  and  prejudices,  as  he  now 
thought  them,  which  many  of  his  countrymen  enter- 
tained against  Cromwell  and  his  party. 

In  the  summer  of  1651,  Cromwell,  after  several 
successes,  forced  the  king  into  England,  and  block- 
ed him  up  in  Worcester.  On  the  3d  September  fol- 
lowing, he  attacked  and  carried  the  town,  totally  de- 
feated the  king's  forces,  and  gained  what  he  himself 
called,  in  his  letter  to  parliament,  "  T-hc  crowning 
victory."  The  king  himself  escaped  with  great  dif- 
ficulty, being  obliged  to  conceal  himself  from  his 
pursuers,  in  the  branches  of  an  oak. 

Cromwell,  now  finding  his  power  uncontroulable, 
began  to  meditate  a  bolder  step,  than  perhaps  had 
ever  before  entered  into  the  head  of  any  man  in 
England.  This  was  no  less  than  to  remove  his  mas- 
ters, the  long  parliament,  and  to  assume  the  whole 
executive  power,  in  his  own  person.  Cromwell  had 
many  conversations  with  the  most  intelligent  of  all 
parties,  on  this  truly  important  business,  of  which 
we  shall  only  relate  the  following,  as  it  may  serve 
more  fully  to  illustrate  the  principles  by  which  he  was 
actuated.  He,  upon  this  great  occasion,  sent  for 
som€  of  the  most  eminent  London  divines,  as  if 
he  had  made  it  a  matter  of  conscience  to  be  deter- 
mined by  their  advice.  Among  these,  was  the  lead- 
ing Mr.  Calamy,  vv^ho  very  boldly  opposed  the  pro- 
ject of  Cromwell's  single  government,  as  being  both 
unlavv'ful  and  impracticable.  Cromwell  answered 
readily  upon  the  first  head,  of  unlawful,  and  appeal- 
ed to  the  safety  of  the  nation  being  the  supreme  law. 
*'  But  says  he,  Mr.  Calamy,  why  impracticable  r" 
Calamy  replied,  "  Oh  I  it  is  the  voice  of  the  nation  ; 
there  will  be  nine  in  ten  against  you.*'     "  Very  well. 


PICTIONARV.  163 

says  Cromwell,  but  it  I  should  disarm  the  nine,  and 
put  the  sword  into  the  tenth  man's  hand,  would  not 
that  do  the  business?" 

Bat  notwithstanding  all  this,  hs  like  a  consummate 
dissembler,  behaved  in  public,  with  great  decency 
and  respect,  towards  that  body  of  men,  whom  he  was 
contriving  to  remove.  The  whole  winter  of  1652 
was  spent  in  contrivances  and  cabals  on  both  sides  ; 
by  the  friends  of  the  parliament  to  support  and  main- 
tain its  authority,  by  their  opponents  to  bring  them 
into  such  a  situation,  as  to  render  the  necessity  of  dis- 
solving that  assembly  universally  apparent.  Matters 
continued  in  this  situation,  till  23d  April  1G53,  whqn 
Cromwell  being  informed,  that  the  house  were  de- 
bating on  a  bill,  to  continue  themselves  in  power,  till 
the  5th  November  of  the  ensuing  year,  m^irched 
directly  with  a  party  of  300  soldiers  to  Westminster  ; 
where,  after  having  sat  for  some  time,  listening  to  their 
debates,  he  started  up  of  a  sudden,  ordered  the 
speaker  to  leave  the  chair,  and  told  the  house,  that 
"  they  had  sat  long  enough,  unless  they  had  done 
more  good."  Then  walking  up  and  down  the  house, 
he  cried  out,  "  You  are  no  parliament,  I  say,  you 
are  no  parliament,"  and  stamping  with  his  feet,  bid 
them  for  shame  be  gone,  and  give  place  to  honester 
men.  Upon  this,  the  soldiers  entered  and  cleared 
the  house  of  all  the  members,  after  which,  Cromwell 
caused  the  doors  to  be  locked,  and  proceeded  to 
Whitehall.  And  here  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  he 
covered  this,  as  well  as  all  his  other  most  daring  ac- 
tions,! under  the  specious  cloak  of  religion ;  "  for," 
says  he  to  the  members.  "  I  have  sought  the  Lord 
night  and  day,  that  he  would  rather  slay  me,  than  put 
me  upon  doing  this  work." 

The  scene  thus  changed,  the  supreme  power  was 
said  to  be  in  the  council  of  officers  again,  who,  after 
a  great  deal  of  bickering  amongst  themselves,  at  last 
agreed,  that  his  Excellency  should  be  Lord  Protector 
ot    the  commonwealth  of   Englaad*    Scotland,  and 


164  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

Ireland,  and  have  the  title  of  Highness.  He  was  accord- 
ingly invested  therewith,  Dec.  16th  i653,  in  Westmin- 
ster-Hall, with  great  solemnity  ;  and  thus  in  his  54th 
year,  assumed  th^  sovereign  power,  which  he  well 
knevv  hov/  to  exercise  with  dignity.  When  he  had 
thus  reduced  the  government  into  some  order  at  least, 
he  applied  himself  with  great  wisdom  and  discretion 
to  the  settlement  of  public  affairs,  both  foreign  and 
domestic ;  he  concluded  a  peace  with  the  states 
of  Holland  and  Sv/eden,  he  obliged  the  king  of  Por- 
tugal, notvv^thstanding  what  had  passed  between  him 
and  the  parliament,  to  accept  of  a  peace  upon  his 
own  terms  ;  and  adjusted  matters  v^'ith  France.  As 
to  home  affairs,  he  filled  the  courts  of  justice,  with 
the  most  able  judges,  and  practised  great  moderation 
with  respect  to  religion,  professing  an  unalterable  resolu- 
tion to  maintain  liberty  of  conscience.  He  also  af- 
fected to  shew  great  zeal  for  justice,  and  caused  the 
brother  of  the  Portuguese  ambassador  to  be  executed 
for  murder,  10th  June  1654,  in  spite  of  the  greatest 
application  to  prevent  it. 

But  notwithstanding  the  pains,  which  he  took,  ta 
gain  the  affections  of  the  people,  he  found  a  spirit 
of  discontent  rising  against  him  in  all  the  three  king- 
doms, and  his  government  so  cramped  for  want  of 
money,  that  he  was  under  an  absolute  necessity  of 
calling  a  parliament  agreeably  to  a  form,  which  he 
himself  had  prescribed  sometime  before.  On  this 
assembly,  which  convened  on  the  3d  September  1654, 
he  exerted  his  utmost  endeavours  to  render  them  sub- 
servient to  his  will,  but  to  no  purpose ;  so  that  find- 
ing, at  last,  that  instead  of  granting  him  m.oney,  they 
were  disposed  to  take  away  his  power,  he  sent  for 
them  to  Whitehall,  where  after  a  speech  full  of  the 
most  bitter  invectives,  he  dissolved  them  23d  Janua- 
ry following. 

The  opening  of  the  year  1655,  proved  but  cloudy  j 
as  the  dissolution  of  Parliament  had  excited  so  great 
indignation,  that  Cromwell  found  himself  beset  with 


DICTIONARY.  165 

conspiracies  on  every  side.  He  had,  however,  the 
good  fortune  to  discover  them,  before  they  could 
be  executed.  Those  of  his  most  violent  opposers, 
he  at  first  only  imprisoned  ;  but  at  last  finding  his  ene- 
mies greatly  increased  in  numbers,  he  had  recource 
to  greater  severity  and  put  many  to  death,  thus  mani- 
festing his  determination  to  maintain  his  authority  at 
all  hazards.  In  the  spring  of  this  year,  was  caried  into 
execution,  that  famous  expedition,  by  which  the  pro- 
tector hoped  to  make  himself  master  of  the  Spanish 
West-Indies,  where  though  his  forces  did  not  succeed 
in  their  main  design,  yet  they  made  themselves  masters 
of  Jamaica,  which  island  has  ever  since  remained  one 
of  the  most  valuable  appendages  of  the  British  dom- 
inions. But  besides  this,  the  glorious  successes  or 
Biake  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  great  sums  he 
received  from  several  powers  for  depredations  com- 
mitted by  their  subjects  on  the  English  merchants, 
did  much  honor  to  the  protector's  government,  and  to 
conclude  the  transactions  of  this  year,  it  must  be  al- 
lowed that  how  much  soever,  he  might  be  disliked  at 
home,  he  brought  the  English  name  to  a  degree  of  re- 
putation abroad,  which  it  had  never  attained  at  any 
previous  period. 

Though  the  war  with  Spain,  under  Blake's  man- 
agement, had  brought  nearly  ten  millions  of  dollars 
into  the  protector's  coffers,  he  still  felt  some  wants, 
which  he  judged  nothing  bu^  a  parliament  could  sup- 
ply; and  having  concerted  more  effectual  measures, 
as  he  conceived,  for  bending  them  to  his  will,  than 
had  been  practised  before  the  last,  he  fixed  the  meet- 
ing of  that  assembly,  September  19tb,  1656.  It  met 
accordingly  ;  but  with  a  guard  posted  at  the  door  of 
the  house,  who  suffered  none  to  enter,  till  they  had 
taken  the  oaths,  which  Cromwell  had  prepared  for 
them,  by  which  many  were  excluded. 

In  the  spring  of  1657,  it  plainly  appeared  what  the 
protector  aimed  at,  by  the  vast  pains  lie  had  taken  to 
render  this  parliament  obsequious  to  hisivill,  for  now 
a  kind  of  legislative  settleiricnt  \vas  upon  the  carpet^ 


16(5  NEW    EIOGRAPKICAL 

in  which  a  blarik  was  left  for  the  supreme  governor's 
titJe,  and  a  clause  prepared  to  countenance  the  esta- 
blishing something  like  peers,  under  the  name  of  the 
other  house.  At  length,  one  Pack,  who,  in  a  high  de-' 
gree  possessed  the  confidence  of  the  Protector,  moved 
that  the  first  blank  should  be  filled  up  with  the 
word  king.  This  was  violently  opposed  by  the  army 
members  ;  but  w^as  at  last  carried,  as  well  as  the  clause 
empowering  him  to  create  lords,  and  in  this  form,the' 
petition  was  presented  to  his  highness,  who  desired 
time  to  consider  it.  The  protector  would,  certainly, 
have  been  glad  to  have  been  dignified  with  the  title 
as  w^ell  as  the  power  of  a  king  ;  but  finding  that  his 
best  friends  and  nearest  relations  w^ere  averse  from  it, 
he  determined  to  refuse  the  honor,  which  he  had 
been  so  long  seeking,  and,  therefore.  May  8th,  1657, 
told  them,  that  he  could  not,  with  a  good  conscience, 
accept  the  government  under  that  title.  The  parlia- 
ment, then,  filled  up  the  blank  Vv^ith  his  former  title  ; 
and  his  highness  himself,  that  the  pains,  which  he  had 
taken,  might  not  be  absolutely  throwMi  aw^ay,  resolv- 
ed upon  a  new  inauguration,  which  was  according- 
ly performed,  June  26th  1657,  in  Westminster-Hall, 
^'ith  all  the  pomp  and  solemmity  of  a  coronation.  Af- 
ter this,  the  house  of  Commons  adjourned  to  January 
20th  following,  in  order  to  give  him  time  to  regulate 
all  things  according  to  the  new  system.,  with  a  view 
to  which,  he  summoned  his  two  sons,  with  a  number 
of  others,  to  take  their  seats  in  the  upper  house. 
This  year  he  was  extremely  disconcerted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  small  treatise  entitled,  *'  Killing,  no 
Murder,'*  in  which  was  shewn  so  plainly,  that  one 
who  had  violated  all  laws,  could  derive  protection 
from  no  law,  that  Cromwell  from  that  time,  believed 
him.self  in  continual  danger.  All  attempts.,  how^ever, 
to  apprehend  the  true  author,  failed  of  success. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1658,  he  was  greatly 
pleased  at  the  hopes  of  being  once  at  the  head  of  an 
assembly,  somewhat  similar  to  the    ancient  parlia- 


DICTIONARY.  167 

ments  of  Fngland;  and,  pursuant  to  their  own  ad- 
journaient,  the  Commons  met  on  January  20th,  as  did 
the  other  house  also,  agreeably  to  the  summons  of 
the  Lord  Protector,  who  began  his  speech  to  the  two 
houses,  with  the  pompous  words  ^*  My  lords,  and  you 
the  knights,  burgesses  and  citizens  of  the  house  of 
Commons,  &c."  But  all  this  only  shewed  that  his 
administration  was  solely  founded  on  military  force  : 
for  the  ancient  nobility  would  not  resume  their  seats. 
in  such  company  as  he  had  assigned  them,  and  the 
house  of  Commons  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  new  nobles  in  the  other  house.  Thus,  in  less 
than  a  fortnight,  the  new  system  was  in  a  fair  way  of 
being  pulled  to  pieces,  and  this  occasioned  the  pro- 
tector on  the  4th  February  following,  to  dissolve 
them  with  great  bitterness  of  speech,  and  sorrow  of 
heart;  for,  he  now  plainly  foresaw  that  a  regular  es- 
tablishment was  impracticable.  Some  further  de- 
signs being  discovered  against  him,  he  is  said,  from 
that  time,  to  have  been  wholly  altered,  and  to  have 
become  daily  more  reserved  and  suspicious;  hence  it 
is,  by  no  means  improbable  that  he  was  the  most 
wretched,  as  well  as  the  most  powerful  n:ian  in  Eng=- 
land. 

That  he  continued  a  complete  enthusiast  to  the 
very  last,  appears  from  his  behaviour  in  his  last  sick- 
ness. His  disease,  which  was  at  first  a  slow  fever, 
brought  on  by  the  endless  cares  and  anxiety  of  his 
mind,  soon  degenerated  into  a  tertian  ague.  In  the 
naorning  after  he  had  been  persuaded  to  make  his  pri-* 
vate  will,  he  asked  one  of  his  physicians,  why  he 
looked  so  sad  ?  and  being  answered,  that  so  it  be- 
came any  one,  who  had  the  weighty  care  of  his  life 
and  health  upon  him.  "  Ye  physicians,"  said  he, 
"  think  I  shall  die ;  I  shall  not  die  this  bout,  I  am 
sure  of  it.  Do  not  think  that  I  am  mad,  for  I  speak  the 
words  of  truth  upon^surer  grounds  than  your  Gallen, 
or  Hippocrates  furnish  you  with.  God  Almiglity 
hath  given  that  answer,  not  to  my  prayers  alone,  but 


168  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

also  to  the  prayers  of  those  who  entertain  a  stricter  i 
commerce  and  interest  with  him.  Go  on,  therefore,  i 
cheerfully,  banishing  all  sadness  from  your  looks, 
and  deal  with  me  as  you  would  do  with  a  serving 
man."  His  chaplains,  and  others  of  the  godly,  dis- 
persed about  the  palace,  had  been  praying  to  God 
in  his  behalf,  and  unanimously  brought  this  answer, 
"  he  shall  recover/'  Nay,  so  far  did  their  enthusiasm 
carry  them,  that  a  public  fast  being  kept  at  Hamp-  | 
ton  court  for  his  sake,  instead  of  offering  up  prayers  ' 
for  his  health,  they  returned  thanks  to  God,  for  the 
undoubted  pledges  of  his  recovery.  Though  the 
physicians,  therefore,  perceived  his  distemper  increas- 
ing every  hour,  they  took  no  notice  of  his  danger, 
till  it  became  necessary  for  him  to  appoint  a  succes- 
sor, while  he  had  any  breath  remaining.  But  being 
then  in  a  lethargic  tit,  he  answered  from  the  purpose; 
upon  which,  he  was  again  asked,  whether  he  did  not 
name  his  eldest  son  Richard,  and  to  this  question 
he  answered,  yes.  Soon  after,  he  expired,  on  the 
Sd  September,  165S,  aged  somewhat  more  than  59 
Tears  and  4  months.  This  day  of  September  he  had 
always  reckoned  to  be  the  most  fortunate  for  him  in 
the  whole  year.  A  violent  tempest,  which  immedi- 
ately succeeded  his  death,  was  variously  commented 
on,  by  his  partizans,  as  well  as  his  opponents. 

He  was  honoured  with  a  very  pompous  funeral,  at 
the  public  expence,  which  in  point  of  splendour,  was 
far  superior  to  that  bestowed  on  crowned  heads. 
Some  have  related,  that  his  body  w^as,  by  his  own 
particular  order,  secretly  buried  in  Xaseby  field  ; 
others,  that  it  was  wrapped  in  lead,  and  sunk  in  the 
deepest  part  of  tlie  Thames,  to  prevent  any  insult 
from  being  afterwards  offered  to  it.  But  it  seems  be- 
vond  doubt,  that  his  body  was  buried  at  Westminster 
horn  the  following  account  of  vihat  passed  upon  the 
order  to  disinter  him,  after  the  restoration,  ''  In  the 
middle  isle  of  Henry  Vilths  chapel  as  the  author 
of  the  complete  history  of  England  tells  us,  at  the 


DICTIONARY.  169 

€ast  end,  in  a  vault,  was  found  his  corps.  In  the 
inside  of  whose  coffin,  and  upon  the  breast  of  the 
corps,  was  laid  a  copper  plate  finely  gilt,  enclosed 
in  a  thin  case  of  lead,  on  the  side  whereof  were  en- 
graved the  arms  of  England,  impaled  with  those  of 
Oliver,  and  on  the  reverse  the  following  legend  in 
Latin,  which  we  have  thus  translated,  ^^  Here  lies, 
Oliver,  Protector  of  the  commonwealth  of  England, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland,  who  was  born  25th  April 
1599;  inaugurated  16th  December  1653,  and  died 
3d  September  1658.'* 

Odious  as  Cromwell's  reign  had  generally  been, 
yet  many  marks  of  public  approbation  were  bestowed 
upon  his  memory,  such  as  the  celebrated  poems  of 
Waller,  Spratt  and  Dryden,  who,  though  the  authors 
lived  to  change  their  sentiments,  will  not  fail  to  give 
always  a  very  high  idea  of  the  man.  Cardinal  Maza- 
rine styled  him  **  a  fortunate  madman  ;'*  but  father 
Orleans  substitutes,  in  its  place,  "  a  judicious  villain  " 
Lord  Clarendon  calls  him  "  a  brave  wicked  man,"  and 
Bishop  Burnet  is  of  opinion,  that  "  his  life  and  his  arts, 
were  exhausted  together,  and  that,  if  he  had  lived  lon- 
ger, he  would  scarce  have  been  able  to  preserve  his 
power.*'  Upon  the  character  of  so  extraordinary  a  per- 
sonage, different  opinions  will  prevail;  but,  as  we 
have  given  an  account  of  his  life,  to  a  considerable 
length,  we  must  leave  our  readers  to  determine  for 
themselves. 

CROMWELL,  (Richard)  eldest  son  of  Oliver, 
and  for  a  short  time,  successor  to  his  father,  as  Lord 
Protector  of  the  commonwealth  of  England,  Scotland 
and  Ireland,  was  born  at  Huntingdon,  October  4th 
1626.  On  the  27th  of  May  1647,  he  was  admitted 
into  the  society  of  Lincolns-Inn,  where  he  did  not  dis- 
tinguish himself,  by  the  closeness  of  his  application 
or  his  ardent  prosecution  of  legal  knowledge.  W^hca 
that  unfortunate  monarch,  Charles  I.  was  condemn- 
ed to  death,  Richard  was  so  struck  with  the  horror  of 

Vol.  n.  No.au  Y 


170  NEW  BIOOaAPHICAL 


his  approaching  fate,  that  he  threw  himself  on  his 
knees  and  pleaded  the  cause  of  fallen  majesty;  but, 
Oliver  was  "  made  of  sterner  stuff,**  than  to  be  divert- 
ed from  his  purpose,  by  the  tears  and  entreaties  of 
his  son. 

His  father  has  been  censured  for  keeping  him  at  a 
distance  from  business,  and  for  giving  him  no  em- 
ployments, but  for  this,  perhaps  there  was  not  any 
just  ground.  He  married  him  to  a  lady,  who  brought 
him  a  good  fortune.  He  suffered  him  to  pursue  the 
bent  of  his  inclination,  and  to  lead  the  life  of  a  plain, 
honest  country  gentleman,  which,  for  a  time,  was 
highly  suitable  to  his  own  interest,  as  it  seemed  to 
correspond  with  the  terms  of  the  instrument  of  go- 
vernment, and,  with  the  dislike  which  the  Protector, 
when  first  so  called,  had  expressed  of  hereditary  right. 
When  he  had  afterwards  brought  about  a  change  of 
affairs,  he  altered,  at  the  same  time,  his  conduct 
towards  his  son,  named  him  the  first  lord  in  the  other 
house ;  resigned  to  him  the  Chancellorship  of  the  uni- 
versity of  Oxford,  and  conferred  upon  him  all  the 
honours  he  could. 

Richard's  accession  to  power,  upon  the  death  of 
his  father,  Sd  September  1658,  was  followed  by  every 
apparent  testimony  of  attachment  and  affection.  His 
power,  however,  was  but  of  short  continuance,  for 
tlie  republicans  getting  the  ascendancy,  he  was  de- 
posed April  22d  1659.  To  this  he  submitted  with- 
out a  struggle,  as  he  was  unwilling  to  secure  power 
and  exaltation  by  those  perfidious  and  bloody  acts 
too  successfully  practised  by  his  father.  "  I  should 
feel  extreme  concern,"  said  Richard,  in  a  confiden- 
tial moment,  "  if  the  blood  of  a  single  man  be  shed 
to  retain  a  situation,  which  I  wish  to  hold  no  longer 
than  shall  be  consistent  with  the  public  good,  and  the 
wishcsof  those  I  govern." 

During  his  short  protectorate,  the  fanatic  preach- 
ers, who  enjoyed,  or  rather  who  fancied  they  had  en- 
joyed the  confidence  of  Oliver,  accused  Richard  of 


n 


DICTIONARY.  1.71 

neglecting  the  godly,  and  keeping  company  with  the 
prophane ;  after  reproaching  them  for  their  selfish 
hypocrisy,  and  clapping  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of 
an  associate,  he  concluded  with  saying,  "  and  here  is 
Dick  Ingolsby,  though  he  can  neither  preach  nor 
pray,  I  would  rather  trust  him  than  the  holiest  man  of 
your  tribe."  He  also  kept  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
two  large  trunks  full  of  the  addresses  presented  to  him;, 
v/hen  protector,  which  from  the  servile  common  place 
cant,  too  generally  adopted  in  such  compositions,  he 
called  the  lives  and  fortunes  o^  iho.  people  of  England* 

Immediately  after  the  restoration  of  Charles  II. 
which  happened  29th  May  1660,  as  Richard  was 
sensible  how  obnoxious  he  must  be  to  a  monarch 
who  had  come  to  take  possession  of  the  kingdoms, 
which  had  for  so  many  years  been  withheld  from  him, 
and  the  sovereignty  of  which  had  been  occupied  by 
the  Cromwells,  he  judged  it  prudent  to  retire  to  the 
continent,  where  he  continued  uicognito  till  the  year 
1680,  when  he  returned  to  his  native  country.  The 
place  which  he  had  fixed  upon  for  his  residence  was 
Chesnut,  in  Hertfordshire,  a  village  within  12  miles 
of  London,  where  he  remained  unmolested  till  the  12th 
of  July  1712,  when  he  died,  in  the  eighty  sixth  year 
of  his  age,  leaving  several  children,  whose  posterity 
are  still  in  existence. 

There  are  numerous  traits  in  the  character  of  Rich- 
ard Cromwell,  which  sufficiently  prove,  that  he  was 
by  no  means  deficient  in  power  of  intellect,  although 
he  hath  frequently  been  so  described.  It  is  more  than 
probable,  hov/ever,  that,  had  he  been  possessed  of  his 
father's  ambition,  we  should  have  heard  no  more  of 
the  posterity  of  the  royal  martyr. 

CULLEN,  (Willi an)  was  born  of  respectable 
parents,  in  Lanerkshire,  Scotland,  in  the  year  1709. 
Having  served  a  short  apprenticeship  to  a  surgeon 
or  apothecary,  in  Glasgow,  he  obtained  the  place  qf 


173  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

asurgeon  in  one  of  the  merchant  vessels  from  Londc_, 
to  the  West  Indies  ;  but  not  liking  that  employment^ 
he  soon  returned  to  his  native  country,  where  he 
practised,  for  a  short  time,  in  the  parish  of  Shotts,. 
among  the  farmers  and  country  people.  Thence  he 
removed  to  Hamilton,  intending  to  practise  there  as 
a  physician. 

Whilst  he  resided  near  Shotts,  Archibald  Duke  of 
Argyle,  made  a  visit  to  a  gentleman  in  that  vicinity. 
His  grace  was  engaged  in  some  chemical  researches, 
which  required  elucidation  by  experiments,  for  which, 
he  then  wanted  the  necessary  apparatus.  A  gentle- 
man then  present,  recollecting  young  Cullen,  men- 
tioned him  as  a  person  who  could,  most  probably, 
supply  his  wants.  He  was  consequently  presented 
to  the  Duke,  with  whom  he  formed  an  acquaintance, 
to  which  he  was  probably  indebted  for  all  his  future 
fortune.  The  name  of  Cullen  having  thus  become 
known,  his  reputation  as  a  practitioner  was  soon  esta- 
blished in  the  neighbourhood.  The  Duke  of  Hamil- 
ton had  then  for  a  short  time,  resided  in  that  part  of 
the  country,  and  having  been  suddenly  taken  ill,  was 
induced  by  the  character  w^hich  he  had  heard  of  Cul- 
len, to  send  for  his  assistance.  The  Duke  was  not 
only  beneficially  aided  by  his  science  in  medicine,  but 
amply  gratified  with  his  conversation.  He  according- 
ly obtained  for  him  a  place  in  the  university  of  Glas- 
gow, where  his  talents  soon  became  more  conspicu- 
ous. 

During  his  residence  in  the  country,  be  had  form- 
ed a  connection  with  William  Flunter,  a  man  who 
afterwards  became  eminent  in  his  profession,  and 
who,  at  that  time,  was  not  in  more  afHuent  circum- 
stances than  Cullen.  They  agreed  to  pursue  their 
studies  together,  and  entered  into  a  partnership  as 
surgeons  and  apothecaries,  on  condition,  that  alter- 
nately, one  should  practice  the  business,  while  the 
other  might  study  medicine,  in  whatever  university  he 
preferred.     Cullen  was  allowed  the  first  choice,  and 


DIICTONARY.  173 

went  to  Edinburgh.  The  next  winter,  Hunter  chose 
London  for  the  same  purpose.  His  excellence  in 
dissections  and  anatomical  preparations,  whilst  he  re- 
sided in  that  city,  was  no  sooner  discovered,  than  Dr. 
Douglass,  a  lecturer  on  anatomy  and  man-midwifery, 
chose  him  for  an  assistant,  and  on  the  death  of  that 
gentleman.  Hunter  succeeded  him  in  both  of  his  pro- 
fessions. Thus  was  the  partnership  suddenly  dissolv- 
ed, but  a  friendly  correspondence  between  these  two 
great  men  succeeded,  which  only  terminated  with 
their  lives. 

When  Dr.  Cullen  practised  in  the  country,  he  be- 
came attached  to  Miss  Johnstone,  the  daughter  of  a 
clergyman  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  obtained  her 
hand  in  marriage.  This  lady,  who  was  about  his 
own  age,  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree,  the  most 
amiable  qualities  that  adorn  her  sex.  Though  her 
fortune  would  now  be  counted  small,  it  was,  at  that 
time,  no  contemptible  acquisition  in  that  country, 
especially  to  one,  whose  situation  in  life  was  then  so 
confined.  After  having  participated  with  him  in  his 
various  changes  of  fortune,  she  died  in  the  summer  of 
1786,  leaving  behind  her  a  numerous  family,  with  her 
husband,  to  regret  her  loss. 

He  had  taken  his  degree  of  Doctor  of  physic,  in 
1740;  and  in  1746,  was  appointed  lecturer  in  che- 
mistry in  the  university  of  Glasgow,  where  he  began 
his  lectures  in  the  latter  part  of  the  same  year.  Now 
his  various  talents  and  endowments  were  displayed 
in  a  point  of  view  that  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
students  and  rendered  their  pursuits  more  interesting 
than  ever  they  had  been  before.  His  practice  as  a 
physician  increased  daily,  and  on  a  vacancy  in  1751, 
he  was  appointed  by  the  King,  professor  of  medicine 
in  the  same  university :  an  advancement,  which  still 
more  encreased  his  fame. 

On  the  death  of  Dr.  Plumber,  professor  of  chemis- 
try at  Edinburgh,  in  the  year  1756,  he  was  unani- 
mously invited  to  accept  the   vacant  chair.     Having 


174  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

accordingly  resigned  his  employment  at  Glasgow, 
began  his  lectures  at  Edinburgh,  in  the  month  of  Oc- 
tober, in  the  same  year.  On  the  appointment  of  Dr. 
Cullen  to  the  professorship,  chemistry,  which  had  be- 
fore been  disregarded,  became  the  favorite  study,  and 
his  lectures  were  more  frequented  than  any  others,  ex- 
cepting those  of  anatomy.  His  success  excited  envy 
amongst  his  colleagues.  They  framed  a  party  of  op- 
position amongst  the  students,  who  misrepresenting 
his  doctrines,  induced  some  men  of  the  greatest  emi- 
Hence  in  the  university  to  oppose  a  system,  which 
they  knew  only  by  report.  Cullen  no  officious  enquirer 
into  the  opinions  of  others,  and  inattentive  to  what 
might  be  said  of  his  own,  was  regardless  ot  their  ef- 
forts: never  was  he  heard  to  traduce  the  professional 
character  of  any  one,  w^ho  might  have  been  thought 
a  rival,  either  as  a  professor  or  a  physician.  The  en- 
vy, which  his  abilities  had  created,  and  his  contempt, 
or  rather  disregard  ot  his  opponents,  contributed  to 
increase  his  reputation.  He  became  more  respected, 
as  he  became  more  known.  In  his  address,  affable 
and  engaging,  in  his  manners  open  and  kind :  and 
in  his  conduct  free  from  the  least  imputation  of  in- 
terested views,  he  was  the  friend  and  companion  of 
every  family,  who  had  occasion  for  his  medical  abili- 
ties :  and  they  who  had  once  employed  him,  could  not 
be  satisfied,  if  they  wanted  a  physician,  without  send- 
ing for  him  again. 

On  the  death  of  Dr.  Alston,  professor  of  medicine, 
in  1763,  the  magistrates  of  Edinburgh  appointed  Dr. 
Cullen  to  succeed  him,  with  a  request,  that  he  would 
finish  a  course  of  lectures,  which  his  predecessor  had 
began.  He  consented,  but  instead  of  contenting  him- 
self with  reading  the  imperfect  copy,  which  had  been 
consigned  to  him,  undertook  a  new  course,  which 
was  entirely  his  own.  The  number  of  students  in- 
creased and  added  to  the  popularity  of  the  new  pro- 
fessor. An  inaccurate  copy  of  his  lectures  having  been 
printed,  he  thought  it  expedient  afterwards  to  publish 


DICTIONART*  175 

a  new  and  more  correct  edition.  The  infirmities 
of  age  increasing,  he  resigned  his  office  in  favor  of 
Dr.  Black,  who  had  been  formerly  his  pupil.  On 
the  death  of  Dr.  Rutherford,  who  had  long  given  lec- 
tures on  the  practice  of  physic,  Dr.  Cullen  and  Dr. 
John  Gregory  became  candidates  for  the  vacant 
place.  But  previous  to  the  time  of  election,  the  par- 
ties agreed  to  a  compromise.  It  was  stipulated,  that 
each  should  give  lectures  alternately  during  their  res- 
pective lives  :  but  that  the  survivor  should  retain  the 
class  to  which  he  should  give  the  preference.  The 
arrangements  having  thus  been  made  ;  Dr.  Cullen 
delivered  the  first  course  of  lectures  in  1766,  and 
Dr.  Gregory,  in  the  year  following,  succeded  him. 
On  the  unexpected  death  of  his  colleague.  Dr.  Cullen 
continued  to  give  lectures  till  within  a  few  months  be- 
fore his  death  :  an  event,  which  to  the  great  regret 
of  his  friends  and  family,  happened  on  the  5th  of  Feb- 
ruary 1790,  and  in  the  82d  year  of  his  age. 

His  principle  works  are  "  Synopsis  nosologise  me- 
thodicae,  Edinburgh  1772,  2  vols.  8vo/'  "  Lectures 
on  the  Materia  Medica,  London  4to.*'  "  First  lines 
of  the  practice  of  Physic  1776,  8vo."  (this  is  said  to 
have  produced  him /.3000  Sterling,  13320  dollars.) 
'*  Institutions  of  Medicine,  containing  Physiology, 
8vo."  "  On  the  recovery  of  drowned  persons ;" 
a  treatise  on  the  materia  medica,  2  vols.  4to  1789  &c. 

We  shall  conclude  this  article  by  observing,  that 
the  death  of  this  great  man,  was  not  only  lamented 
by  the  literati  of  that  country  which  gave  him  birth; 
but,  likewise  by  men  of  science  throughout  every 
part  of  the  civilized  world.  In  particular,  wc  recol- 
lect, that  on  the  9th  July  after  his  death,  an  excel- 
lent eulogium  was  delivered  to  his  honour  by  Dr. 
Benjamin  Rush,  of  Philadelphia,  at  the  request  of 
the  college  of  Physicians  of  that  city,  who,  together 
with  the  medical  graduates  and  students,  assembled 
upon  that  solemn  occasion,  to  lament  the  loss,  which. 


176  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

in  common  with  ever  friend  to  the  sciences,  they  had 
sustained  by  his  death. 

This  great  man  was^  physician  to  his  majesty  for 
Scotland,  Fellow  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians 
in  Edinburgh,  of  the  Royal  Societies  of  London,  and 
of  Edinburgh;  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Medicine  at 
Paris,  of  the  Royal  college  of  Physicians  at  Madrid, 
of  the  American  Philosophical  Society  at  Philadel- 
phia, &c.  &c. 

GUSHING,  (Thomas)  L.  L.  D.  lieutenant  gover- 
nor of  the  commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  was  born 
in  the  year  1725,  and  completed  his  academical  edu- 
cation, at  the  university  of  Cambridge,  in  his  native 
state. 

While  he  was  very  young,  the  town  of  Boston 
called  him  to  fill  some  of  its  most  respectable  offices, 
and  delegated  him  as  its  representative  to  the  gene- 
ral court.  In  this  situation,  his  patriotism,  his  abili- 
ties, and  his  faculty  in  dispatching  business,  led  the 
house  of  assembly  to  chose  him  their  speaker,  a  place 
which  had  for  many  years  been  filled  by  his  father 
with  great  reputation.  While  he  was  in  the  chair, 
the  contest  with  Great  Britain  ripened  to  a  conclusion, 
and  the  station  he  held  not  only  called  out  his  exer- 
tions in  the  service  of  his  country,  but  rendered  him 
knovt^n,  wherever  the  cause  of  America  was  patron- 
ized, and  indeed  throughout  the  European  world. 
Of  the  two  first  continental  congresses,  which  laid  a 
foundation  for  the  independence  and  happiness  of  this 
country,  he  was  a  judicious  and  an  active  member,. 
On  his  return  to  his  own  state,  he  was  chosen  a  mem- 
ber of  the  council,  which  then  constituted  its  su- 
preme executive.  He  was  also  appointed  judge  of 
the  courts  of  con»mon  pleas,  and  of  probate  in  the 
county  of  Suffolk,  which  stations  he  held  until  the 
adoption  of  the  present  state  constitution,  when  he 


BICTIONARV.  177 

was  called  to  the  office  of  lieutenant  governor,  in  which 
he  continued,  until  his  death. 

Under  arbitrary,  or  monarchical  governments,  a 
man's  being  appointed  to,  or  continued  in  an  office,  is 
310  certain  evidence  of  his  being  qualified  for  it ;  but 
in  governments,  free  like  ours,  the  appointment  of  a 
person  for  a  long  course  of  years  together,  to  guard 
the  interests  of  the  people,  and  to  transact  their  impor- 
tant affairs,  is  the  mostincontestible  proof  of  his  abili- 
ties and  his  integrity.  This  observation  was  verified 
in  Mr.  Gushing.  He  thoroughly  understood  the  in* 
terest  of  his  country,  and  meant  invariably  to  pursue 
them.  Very  few  men  knew  better  than  he,  how  to 
predict  the  consequences  of  the  public  conduct — 
to  balance  contending  parties — to  remove  difficul- 
ties— and  to  unite  separate  and  divided  interests. 
His  life  was  a  state  of  constant  exertion  in  the  service 
of  his  country ;  its  happiness  was  dear  to  him  in  health  ; 
it  lay  near  his  heart  in  his  last  moments ;  and,  while 
he  expressed  a  satisfaction  in  having  honestly  and  up- 
rightly, in  every  department  he  had  filled,  aimed  at 
doing  right,  he  manifested  the  most  tender  solicitude, 
for  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  America. 

He  was,  from  liis  early  youth,  a  professor  of  religion 
and  a  serious  and  devout  attendant  upon  its  offices, 
in  public  and  private.  The  principles  and  motives  of 
the  gospel  lay  with  great  weight  upon  his  mind  :  they 
had  an  evident  influence  upon  his  conduct  in  life ;  they 
dispersed  from  before  him  the  terrors  of  death,  and  en- 
abled him  to  look  forward  with  calmness  and  compo- 
sure, to  a  state  of  glory  and  felicity  beyond  the  grave. 

His  reputation  for  serious  religion  induced  the  so- 
ciety in  London,  for  propagating  the  gospel  in  New- 
England,  to  appoint  him  one  of  their  commissioners, 
which  trust  he  discharged  with  fidelity  and  care. 

A  man,  under  the  genuine  influence  of  religion,  will 
be  ever  attentive  to  relative  duties:  and  we  disceru 
more  traits  of  his  real  character  in  this  undress  of  life, 

Vol.11.  No.  11;  Z 


17B  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

than  we  do,  when  he  knows,  that  he  is  the  subject  of 
strict  observation ;  and  in  this  instance,  his  friends 
will  Join,  in  testifying  his  tenderness  as  a  husband ; 
his  aifection  as  a  father  ;  his  fidehty  as  a  friend  ;  and 
his  indulgence  as  a  master.  His  manners  were  amia- 
ble, and  his  conversation  open,  pleasant  and  agreea- 
ble. He  gave  many  proofs  of  his  charity  to  the  poor, 
and  his  kindness  to  the  orphan  and  the  helpless.  His 
heart  melted  at  the  woes  of  others  ^  and  his  heart  was 
open  to  relieve  them. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  omit  his  great  affection  for 
the  university  of  Cambridge,  where  he  received  his 
education.  He  sought  for  opportunities  to  do  it  ser- 
vice ;  and  he  never  was  happier,  than  when  he  ob- 
served its  prosperity,  and  could  support  its  interests. 
The  university  was  grateful  for  his  affection,  and,  in 
leturn,  bestowed  upon  him  its  highest  honors. 

Mr.  Gushing  ha<l  a  firm  constitution,  but  was  sub- 
ject to  the  gout.  It  was  this  disorder,  which  depri- 
ved his  country  of  his  abilities,  at  a  time,  when  an 
important  change  was  agitating  in  her  political  fa- 
brick.  On  the  19th  of  February,  1788,  he  was  at- 
tacked by  the  gout  in  his  breast,  and,  on  the  28th  of 
the  same  month,  he  died  in  the  63d  year  of  his  age, 
having  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  the  new  federal  con- 
stitution ratified,  by  the  convention  of  Massachu- 
setts, a  few  days  before  his  death. 

DACjER,  (Andrew)  a  French  critic  and  philo- 
loger,  was  born  of  protestant  parents  at  Castres,  in 
Upper  Lauguedoc,  April  6th  1651.  Having  receiv- 
ed the  first  principles  of  classical  learning  in  that  city, 
he  was  afterwards  sent  to  the  university  of  Samur, 
that  he  might  finish  his  education  under  the  celebrat- 
ed Tanguy  le  Fevre,  then  engaged  in  the  instruction 
of  his  daughter,  who  afterwards  became  one  of  the 
brightest  ornaments  of  her  sex.  This  gave  rise  to 
that  mutual  tenderness,  which  a  marriage  of  forty 


DICTIONARY.  179 

years  could  not  weaken.  The  Duke  of  Montausier, 
governor  to  the  Dauphin,  hearing  of  his  merit,  put  him 
on  the  list  of  commentators  for  the  use  of  the  dau- 
phin, and  engaged  him  in  an  edition  of"  Pompeius 
Festus,'*  which  he  published  in  1681.  His  "  Ho- 
race" with  a  French  translation,  and  notes  historical 
and  critical,  in  10  vols,  also  came  out  in  the  same 
year.  The  next  specimen  of  his  learning,  was  m  the 
edition  he  gave  of  "  The  12th  book  of  the  ana^-o^i- 
cal  contemplations  of  St.  Anastasius,  upon  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world,  together  with  notes  and  a  Latin 
translation,"  which  was  published,  at  London  in 
1682. 

His  marriage  with  Mademoiselle  le  Fevre,  which 
happened  in  the  year  1683,  seems  to  have  conside- 
rably interrupted  his  literary  pursuits,  for  we  hear  no 
more  of  him  till  1691,  when  he  obliged  the  world 
with  a  French  translation  of  "  The  Moral  reflections 
of  the  Emperor  Marcus  Antonius,  with  notes."  It 
would  be  too  tedious,  nor  would  it  be  very  entertain- 
ing to  our  readers,  to  particularize  all  the  publications 
of  this  learned  and  truly  voluminous  writer.  1%  shall 
therefore  suffice  to  say,  that  he  translated,*  in  a  mas- 
terly manner,  a  great  number  of  the  most  valuable 
writings  oi  the  ancients. 

When  the  "  History  of  Lewis  XIV  was  finished 
by  Medals,"  in  1713,  he  was  chosen  to  present  it  to 
his  Majesty,  who,  being  informed  of  the  pains  he 
had  taken  on  that  subject,  settled  upon  him  a  mode- 
rate pension  for  life,  and  about  the  same  time,  an- 
pointed  him  keeper  of  the  books  in  the  king^s  closet 
in  the  Louvre.  When  that  post  was  united  to  that 
of  Library  keeper  to  the  king,  he  was  not  only  con- 
tinned  in  the  privileges  of  his  place,  during  life,  but 
the  survivance  was  granted  to  his  wife,  a  favour,  of 
which  there  had  never  been  an  instance  before.  But 
the  death  of  Madame  Dacier,  in  1720,  rendered  this 
grant,  which  was  so  honourable  to  her,  ineffectual 
He  died  Sept.  18th  1722,  in  his  72d  vear,  of  an  irl- 


180  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

ccr  in  the  throat,  which  he  did  not  think  at  all  dan- 
gerous,  as  he  was  present  at  the  academy  that  very 
evening. 

He  was  a  great  promoter  of  virtue  and  learning, 
and,  if  he  was  somewhat  partial  to  antiquity,  he  is  to 
be  excused,  because  he  studied  those  writers  among 
the  Pagans,  who  had  applied  themselves  with  most 
success  to  the  knowledge  and  regulation  of  the  hu- 
man mind.  Considered  in  this  light,  Dacier  is  an 
author  highly  to  be  valued,  for  he  chose  none  but 
useful  subjects;  devoted  his  labours  only  to  works  of 
importan.ce  ;  and  enriched  the  French  language  with 
those  remains  of  wise  antiquity,  which  are  most  ad- 
vantageous to  the  morals  of  mankind. 

DACIER,  (Anne)  wife  of  the  preceding,  and 
daughter  of  Tanguy  Le  Fevre,  professor  of  Greek, 
at  Samur  in  France,  was  born  in  that  city  about  the 
end  of  the  year  1651.  She  was  about  1 1  years  old,, 
when  her  father  resolved  to  give  her  a  learned  educa- 
tion ;  and  the  occasion  of  his  taking  such  a  resolution, 
was  this :  while  he  was  teaching  one  of  his  sons  the 
ludiments  of  grammar,  in  the  same  room,  where  Ma- 
damoiselle  le  Fevre  was  employed  with  her  needle, 
she,  as  a  person  wholy  unconcerned,  occasionally  sup- 
plied her  brother  with  answers  to  questions,  which 
yiizzlcal  him.  Her  father  discovering  her  talents, 
tiom  thence  gave  her  a  regular  course  of  instruction, 
and  brought  her  up  a  scholar.  In  i672,  her  father 
died,  and  the  year  following,  she  went  to  Paris,  whe- 
ther her  fame  had  already  preceded  her.  She  was 
then  preparing  an  edition  of  "  Callimachus,"  which 
she  published  in  1674.  Having  shewn  some  sheets 
of  it  to  Mr  Huet  preceptor  to  the  Dauphin,  and  to 
"several  other  men  of  learning  at  the  court,  the  work 
was  so  highly  admired,  that  the  duke  of  Montausier 
made  a  proposal  to  her  of  publishing  several  Latin 
authors,  for  the  use  of  the  dauphin,  which,  though  she 


©ICTIONART.  ISl 

rejected  at  first,  she  at  last  undertook^  and  published 
an  edition  of"  Florus.'' 

Her  reputation  being  now  spread  all  over  Europe, 
Christina,  queen  of  Sweden,  ordered  her  ambassador 
at  the  court  of  France,  to  make  her  a  compliment  in 
her  name,  upon  which  Madamoiselle  le  Fevre,  sent 
the  queen  a  Latin  letter,  with  her  edition  of  Florus. 
to  which  her  majesty  wrote  an  obliging  answer,  and 
not  long  after  sent  her  another  letter,  persuading  her 
to  abandon  the  protestant  religion,  and  making  her 
considerable  offers  to  settle  at  her  court.  This,  how- 
ever, she  declined,  and  proceeded  in  the  task  she  had 
undertaken,  of  preparing  authors  for  the  use  of  the 
dauphin,  in  which  she  proceeded  with  so  great  acti- 
vity and  perseverance,  that,  previousto  the  end  of  the 
year  1684,  she  had  published  no  less  than  twelve  vo- 
lumes, several  of  which  liave  been  repeatedly  printed 
in  England,  as  well  as  France. 

But,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  various  publications, 
she,  in  the  year   1683,  found  time  to  marry  M.  Da- 
cier,  with  whom  she  had  been  brought  up  in  her  fa- 
ther's house,  from  her  earliest  years.     Soon  after  this, 
she  declared  to  her  friends,  the  Duke  of  Montausier 
and  the  Bishop  ofMeaux,  a  design  of  reconciling 
herself  to  the  church  of  Rome;  but,  as  M.  Dacier 
■was  not  yet  convinced  of  the  propriety   of  such   a 
change,  they  thought  proper  to  retire  to  Castres   in 
1684,  in  order  to  examine  the  points  of  controversy 
between  the  Protestants  and  the  Roman  Catholics. — 
They,  at  last,  determined  in  favour  of  the  latter,  and 
made  their  public  abjurations  accordingly,  in   1685, 
after  which  the    king  bestowed  considerable  marks 
of  his  favour,  both  upon  the  husband   and  wife. — 
She  still   continued  to  favour  the   world   with   nu- 
merous publications,  the  most  remarkable  of  which, 
is  "  The  Iliad  of  Homer  translated  into  French,  with 
notes,  in  3  vols.  12mo.  i711,  and  her  translation  of 
the  "  Odyssey,"    which  she  executed  in  the  same 
manner  in  17 IG,  and  this,  so  far  as  we  can  find,  v/as 


JS2  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


41 


the  last  thing  she  published.  She  had  two  daughters 
and  a  son,  to  whose  education  she  paid  the  greatest 
attention  ;  but  the  son  died  in  the  year  1694,  and  one 
of  her  daughters  became  a  nun ;  the  other,  who  ^i. 
is  said  to  have  united  in  her,  all  the  virtues  and  ac- 
complishments of  her  sex,  died  at  i8  years  of  age. 
Her  mother  has  immortalized  her  memory  in  the  pre- 
face to  her  translation  of  the  Iliad.  Madame  Dacier 
was  in  a  very  infirm  state  of  health  the  two  last  years 
of  her  life  ;  and  died  after  a  very  painful  sickness, 
August  27th,   1720  aged  69. 

Madame  Dacier  was  a  lady  of  great  virtue  as  well 
as  learning,  and  remarkable  for  firmness,  generosity, 
equality  of  temper  and  piety.  Like  most  persons 
possessed  of  superior  talents,  she  was,  likewise,  a 
woman  of  remarkable  modesty,  so  that  she  could 
seldom  be  prevailed  on  to  speak  upon  subjects  of  li- 
terature. ■ 

DAMPIER,  (Captain  William)  a  celebrat- 
cd  English  voyager  was  descended  from  a  res- 
pectable family  in  Somersetshire,  and  born  in  1652, 
but  losing  his  father,  when  very  young,  he  was  sent 
to  sea,  where  he  soon  distinguished  himself,  par- 
ticularly in  the  South  Sea.  He  associated  himself 
with  one  Captain  Cook,  in  order  to  cruise  against  the 
Spaniards,  and  on  August  23d,  1683,  sailed  from 
Accomac  in  Virginia  for  the  Cape  de  Verde  Islands. 
After  touching  at  several  of  them,  he  steered  for  th-e 
streights  of  Magellan,  but  the  wind  being  against 
thern,  they  stood  over  for  the  coast  of  Guinea,  and 
in  a  few  days,  anchored  at  the  mouth  of  Sherborough 
river,  where  the  ship's  crew  were  hospitably  receiv- 
ed by  the  inhabitants.  He  then  proceeded  to  the 
South  Seas,  through  the  streights  of  Magellan;  and, 
arriving  at  the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  took  on 
board  a  Moskito  Indian^  who  had  been  left  in  that 
uninhabited  place  above  three  years  before.     After 


DICTIONARY.  185 

Staying  here  about  14  days,  they  set  sail,  April  8th 
1684,  steering  towards  the  line,  off  the  islands  of  Pera 
and  Chili,  took  several  prizes,  and  proceeded  to  the 
Gallipago  islands,  and  from  thence  to  Cape  Blanco. 
On  July  20th  they  sailed  towards  the  island  of  Plata, 
where  they  arrived  on  September  20th  following. 
Here  they  made  a  descent  upon  Paita,  attacked  the 
fort,  and  took  it  with  little  opposition ;  but  finding 
that  the  governor  and  inhabitants  had  quitted  the 
town  and  carried  off  their  money,  goods  and  provi- 
sions, they  set  fire  to  it,  and  afterwards  set  sail  for, 
and  attacked  Guaiquil,  but  without  success. 

They  now  entered  the  Bay  of  Panama,  with  the 
design  of  looking  into  some  river,  unfrequented  by 
the  Spaniards,  in  search  of  canoes,  and  therefore, 
endeavoured  to  enter  the  river  of  St.  Jago,  on  ac- 
count of  its  proximity  to  the  island  of  Gallo,  where 
there  is  much  gold,  and  safe  anchorage  for  ships, 
Dampier,  with  some  others,  ventured  to  row  six 
leagues  up  the  river;  but  the  Indians,  at  their  ap- 
proach, got  into  their  canoes  and  paddled  up  the 
stream,  with  so  great  expedition,  as  to  render  it 
impossible  for  our  navigator  to  get  up  with  them. 
They,  therefore,  returned  the  next  morning,  in  or- 
der to  sail  for  the  island  of  Gallo,  and,  in  their 
way,  took  a  Spanish  packet  boat,  sent  with  dispatch- 
es from  Panama  to  Lima,  by  v/hich  they  learned,  that 
the  Armada  being  arrived  from  Spain,  at  Porto  Bello, 
waited  for  the  fleet  from  Lima,  which  made  them  re- 
solve to  rendezvous  amongst  the  King's  or  Pearl  is- 
lands, by  which  all  the  ships  bound  to  Panama  from 
Lima  must  necessarily  pass.  On  May  28th,  they 
discovered  the  Spanish  fleet,  but  night  approaching, 
they  only  exchanged  a  few  shot.  The  Spanish  admi- 
ral, by  the  artifice  of  a  false  light,  got  the  wea- 
ther-gage of  them  the  next  day,  and  came  up  to  them 
with  full  sail,  which  obliged  them  tc  make  a  running 
fight  of  it,  all  around  the  bay  of  Panama,  and  thus 
their  long  projected  design  proved  fruitless.     Thej 


184  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


now  sailed  for  the  island  of  Quibo,  where  they  found 
Captain  Plarris,  and  as  their  late  attempt  at  sea  had 
been  unsuccessful,  they  resolved  to  try  their  fortune 
by  land,  by  attacking  the  city  of  Leon,  on  the  coast 
of  Mexico,  which  they  took  and  burnt. 

They  how  proceeded  to  the  westward,  till  they 
came  to  Guatulco,  one  of  the  best  ports  in  the  king- 
dom of  Mexico  5  and  from  thence  to  Cape  Cerientes, 
where  they  waited  for  some  time,  in  hopes  of  meet- 
ing with  a  galleon,  of  v/hich  they  had  received  infor* 
niation.  They  continued  cruising  off  this  cape,  till 
January  1st,  1685,  when  their  provisions  being  ex- 
hausted, they  were  forced  to  quit  their  station  to  pro- 
cure a  supply,  and  vv^hile  they  were  engaged  in  this 
necessary  business,  the  Manilla  ship  passed  by  them 
to  the  Eastvi'ard.  After  this,  they  steered  towards 
Calefornia,  and  anchored  in  one  of  the  Tres  Maria 
Islands.  Dampier,  having  long  been  sick  of  a  dropsy, 
was  here  buried  for  about  half  an  hour  up  to  the  neck 
in  sand,  which  threw  him  into  a  profuse  sweat ;  and 
being  afterwards  wrapped  up  warm,  and  put  to  bed, 
found  great  benefit,  from  this  extraordinary  remedy. 

Their  success  in  this  part  of  the  world  having  been 
very  indifferent,  and  there  appearing  no  probability 
of  its  mending,  they  shaped  their  course  towards  the 
East-Indies,  where,  after  having  visited  New-Hol- 
land, and  a  number  of  other  countries,  they  arrived 
at  Nicobar,  where,  by  some  accident,  Dampier  and 
some  of  his  companions  were  left  on  shore,  and  treated 
with  great  civility  by  the  inhabitants.  Dampier, 
however,  contrived  to  leave  his  companions,  and  ar- 
rived at  the  English  factory  at  Achen,  where,  after 
having  resided  for  some  time,  he  engaged  with  a 
captain  Weldon,  under  whom  he  made  several  trading 
voyages  for  upv^'ards  of  fifteen  months,  and  after- 
wards entered  as  a  gunner  to  an  English  factory  at 
Bencoolen.  Upon  this  coast,  he  staid  till  ]691,  and 
then  embarked  for  England,  when  he  was  obliged 


DIGTIONARYo  ISST 

to  make  his  escape  through  one  of  the  port-holes,  the 
governor  having  revoked  his  promise  of  allowing 
him  to  depart,  when  he  thought  proper.  He  arriv- 
ed in  the  Downs,  September  16th,  following, 
where,  notwithstanding  his  active  exertions  in  the  for- 
mer part  of  his  life,  he  continued  for  some  time  in 
indigent  circumstances.  He  appears  afterwards  to 
have  been  concerned  in  an  expedition  concerted  by 
the  merchants  of  Bristol  to  the  South  Sea,  command- 
ed by  captain  Woodes  Rogers,  which  sailed  in  Au- 
gust 1708,  and  returned  in  September  1711 3  a  voy- 
age attended  with  many  singular  circumstances,  and 
a  great  number  of  curious  and  entertaining  events. 
His  "  Voyage  round  the  world,"  is  well  known  and 
has  gone  through  many  editions. 

D'AUBIGNY,  (Theodore  Agrippa)  a  French 
Hugonot,  and  great  favourite  of  Henry  III.  king  of 
Navarre  was  born  in  the  year  1 550,  and  by  uniting  in 
an  extraordinary  degree,  military  intrepidity,  religious 
fervour,  and  literary  acumen,  he  alternately,  vigor- 
ously and  successfully  attacked  his  catholic  oppo- 
nents with  the  sword  and  with  the  pen. 

D'Aubigny  has  left  an  account  of  his  own  life  In 
the  interesting  character  of  a  parent,  sinking  under 
age  and  infirmity,  who,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  long 
warfare,  delivers  to  his  children  a  spirited  outline  of 
his  adventures,  accompanied  with  instructive  com- 
ment and  pathetic  exhortation.  And,  if  we  make 
some  allowance  for  the  excusable  egotism  of  a  man, 
who  had  performed  many  gallant  exploits,  and  had 
been  an  eye  witness  of,  or  a  party  concerned  in  the 
great  transactions  of  the  day,  this  little  piece  of  bio- 
graphy is  valuable,  as  an  original  picture  of  a  tumul- 
tuous reign,  drawn  by  a  character  of  a  peculiar  cast. 
It  describes  honest  pride,  and  incorruptible  integrity 
struggling  with  party  perfidy,  and  polemic  rancour,  a 
courtier  boldly  and  openly  avowing  hostility  to  every 

Vol.  II.  No.  12.  A  2 


1^6  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


measure  and  every  person  however  exalted,  who  at- 
tempted to  fetter  the  freedom  of  private  opinion,  im- 
peach his  honour  or  doubt  his  loyalty  to  Henry  :  for 
he  considered  a  strong  attachment  to  the  reformed 
church,  and  unqualified  opposition  to  court  measures, 
as  fairly  compatible  with  his  duty  as  a  soldier  and  his 
fidelity  as  a  subject. 

From  his  infancy,  he  discovered  the  most  uncom- 
mon abilities  ;  for,  at  the  age  of  six  years,  he  is  said 
to  have  been  able  to  read  Latin,  Greek  and  He- 
brew ;  and  at  seven  to  have  translated  "  The  Crito  of 
Plato,"  a  work,  to  which  he  was  incited  by  the  pro- 
mise of  his  father,  that  it  should  be  printed  with  a 
portrait  of  the  juvenile  translator  prefixed. 

The  spirit  of  party  as  well  as  literary  ascendancy 
appears  to  have  burst  forth  early  in  young  D'Aubig- 
ny,  and  the  incident  which  first  excited  it,  probably 
impressed  on  his   mind  that  constitutional  antipathy 
to  the  catholic  religion,  which   was  the  leading  fea- 
ture of  his  character,  and  determined  the  fate  of  his 
life.    Riding  with  his  father  to  Amboise,  he  remark- 
ed the   heads  of  several   Hugonots,  who  had  lately 
been  executed  at  that  place,  but,  when  he  heard 
that  some  of  them  were  particular  friends  to  his  fam- 
ily, he   exclaimed  "  scoundrels  and  hangmen  have 
depopulated  France  1"     Actuated  by  similar  zeal  in 
future  life,  whenever  he  commanded  at  the  taking  of 
a  town^  he  always  obliged  the   prisoners  to    make 
the  following  addition  to  their  capitulation, "  renounc- 
ing forever  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  the  authority 
of  the  detestable  council  of  Constance."     That  coun- 
cil, which  had  been  held  in  1514,   had  caused  John 
Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague  to  be  burnt,  pursuant  to 
this  maxim,  *'  that  no  faith  is  to  be  kept  with  heretics." 
At  the  age  of  13  he  became  an  orphan  ;  "The  good 
old  man,"  says  our  author,  speaking  of  his  father,  **  re- 
commended to  me  with  his  dying  breath,  three  things 
which  I  hope,  I  have  not  forgot  -,  the  love  of  truth,  a 


1 


DICTIONARY.  187 

^eal  (of  religion,  and  an  universal  pursuit  of  know- 
ledge." 

As  soon  as  it  was  understood,  that  a  dissenter 
might  be  injured  with  impunity,  he  was  oppressed 
as  a  sectary,  and  plundered  as  a  minor ;  but  escap- 
ing from  a  prison,  in  which  he  had  been  confined  for 
rash  zeal  or  juvenile  indiscretion,  he  was  sent  to  fin- 
ish his  studies,  at  Geneva,  and  afterwards  went  to 
Lyons.  At  the  last  of  these  places,  he  improved 
himself  in  mathematics  and  in  magic,  "  resolving  at 
the  same  time,  to  take  no  advantage  of  his  know- 
ledge of  that  mysterious  art,"  an  art,  he  might  have 
added,  so  dangerous  at  different  periods  to  its  profes- 
sors, and  so  harmless  to  every  one  besides.  13at 
whatever  were  his  povi^ers  or  his  attainments,  they 
were  not  sufficient  to  preserve  him  from  poverty  and 
distress,  to  which  the  fraud  of  others,  and  his  own 
want  of  conduct  had  reduced  him.  Lively  men, 
when  dejected,  are  said  to  be  the  most  melancholy  of 
mortals  :  and  the  subject  of  our  present  article,  who, 
a  short  time  before,  had  made  more  racket  apd  noise 
than  any  mad-cap  of  the  neighbourhood,  resolved,  the 
instant  adversity  stared  him  in  the  face,  to  rid  himself 
of  all  sorrow  by  suicide.  But  previous  to  taking  so 
awful  and  unwarrantable  a  step,  he  determined  un- 
der the  combined  impulse  of  devotion  and  despair, 
to  ask  pardon  of  his  maker  for  the  crime  he  was  about 
to  commit,  and  fell  on  his  knees  near  the  banks  of 
the  Saone.  He  was  roused  from  prayer,  by  the  trot- 
ting of  an  horse  over  an  adjoining  bridge  ;  thinking 
it  his  duty  to  try  all  expedients  before  he  had  recourse 
to  the  last  fatal  one,  and  stimulated  by  revolting  na- 
ture, to  catch  even  at  a  momentary  respite,  he  hurri- 
ed to  the  spot,  and  fortunately  discovered  that  the 
person  on  horseback  was  one  of  his  relations.  From 
this  gentleman,  he  received  a  supply  of  money  and 
good  advice,  neither  of  which  he  made  a  proper  use 
of;  for  he  frankly  confesses  that  his  industry  and  ap- 
plication to  study  considerably  relaxed  j  that  he  dis- 


185  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAI; 

]iked  books,  and  was  never  easy  out  of  company  5 
that   he  had  acquired  the    character  of  a  facetious 
companion  in  joyous  circles  ;  a  sporter  of  epigrams 
and  satirical  repartee  ;  a  mimic  and  a  buffoon  ;  ac- 
complishments, which  we  are  so  ready  to  join  in  and 
admire,  at  the  convivial  table,  although  in  the  cool 
hour  of  reflection,  we  dread  and  avoid  the  persons, 
who  possess  them  ;  an   axiom  confirmed  by   daily 
experience,  which  certain  young  men  of  strong  ani- 
mal spirits,  in  the  glow  of  a  second  bottle,  and  pant- 
ing for  distinction  as  wits,  will  do  well  to  recollect  and 
apply.     With  such  tendencies,  which  had  deranged 
his  finances,  D'Aubigny  entered  as  a  volunteer  into 
the  army,  that  last  and  common  refuge  for  violent 
spirits  under  pecuniary  difficulties.    Guyenne,  Anjou, 
Touraine,  Normandy  and  Picardy  were  the  scenes  of 
his  provincial  campaigns,  in  which  the  impetuosity  of 
youth  hurried  him    into   many   imminent   dangers, 
while  the  flippancy  of  his  tongue,  and  the  eccentric 
liveliness  of  his  manners,  attracted   the  notice  and 
sometimes  the  displeasure  of  his  officers. 

On  a  field  day,  as  he  was  ridiculing  and  censuring  in 
his  usual  way,  the  aukwardnessof  some  of  his  associ- 
ates, in  which,  though  correct  as  to  the  matter  in  ques- 
tion, he  had  neither  authority  nor  right  to  interfere, 
his  talking  and  loud  laughing  were  remarked  by  the 
Prince  of  Conde,  who  demanded  the  name  of  that 
forward  and   troublesome  young  man.     On   being 
told,  he  recollected  his  family,  sent  for  him,  and,  in 
a  good  natured  way,  checking  his  intemperate  vivac- 
ity, asked  the  colonel,  if  he  would  spare  his  young 
volunteer,  "I  will  make  your  Royal  Highness  a  pre- 
sent of  him  with  great  pleasure,"  replied  the  com- 
manding officer,  glad   to  get  rid  cf  an  unmanageable 
strippling.      "  A  truce  with   making  presents,  my 
good  colonel,"  cried  D'Aubigny  in  a  characteristic 
strain  of  youthful  levity,  "  you  may  give  away  a  dog, 
or  a  hawk,  a  valet,  or  even  a  mistress,  when  you  are 
tired  of  her^  but  young  men  of  my  metal  are  not  ta 


DICTIONARY.  189 

be  disposed  of,  with  so  little  ceremony."  After  thank- 
ing the  Prince  for  his  kind  intentions,  he  politely  de- 
clined his  offer  and  retired. 

In  his  twentieth  year,  he  was  introduced  to  Henry 
III.  as  a  young  man,  whom  neither  difficulty,  dis- 
tress, danger,  hunger,  thirst  or  cold  would  prevent 
from  doing  his  duty  ;  but  as  a  drawback  from  this 
recommendation,  it  was  added,  that  he  would  not 
bear  restraint  or  opposition,  and  would,  on  every  oc- 
casion, and  whatever  the  consequence,  always  speak 
his  mind.  He  escaped  almost  miraculously  the  mas- 
sacre of  St.  Bartholomew  24th,  August  1572,  hav- 
ing by  accident,  or  from  business,  left  Paris  only  a 
few  hours  before  that  volcano  of  hell  burst  forth. 
This  dreadful  tragedy  of  the  unsuspecting  and  un- 
armed protestants,  was  instigated  by  the  bloody  Ca- 
tharine de  Aledicis,  and  her  son  Charles  JX.  when, 
by  the  united  efforts  of  despotism  and  priestcraft,  a 
greater  number  of  people  perished  within  three  days, 
than  have  fallen  in  France,  by  the  hands  of  the  Scj)- 
tembrisers,  the  anarchists  and  by  the  revolutionary 
tribunals,  during  the  whole  course  of  the  late  repeat- 
ed revolutions,  in  that  country.  This  horrible  busi- 
ness appears  to  have  made  an  indelible  impression 
on  the  mind  of  a  man,  who  had  so  narrowly  escaped^ 
for  after  the  peace  of  Paris,  the  king  being  desirous 
of  conversing  with  one,  of  whose  gallant  intrepidi- 
ty he  had  heard  so  much,  and  from  whose  active  op- 
position the  catholic  cause  had  considerably  suffered, 
no  entreaties  could  prevail  on  our  protestant  soldier 
to  wait  on  the  tyrant,  "I  will  never  bend  my  knee," 
he  cried  "  to  the  approver,  if  not  the  director,  of  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew. 

It  was  not  long  before  our  adventurer  gave  a  spe- 
cimen of  the  rudeness  of  his  pen,  by  a  sarcastic  stan- 
za on  Henry's  giving  him  a  portrait  of  himself,  for 
services,  which  D'Aubigny  thought  deserved  a  more 
valuable  remuneration;  this  baggatelle  penned  in  a 
moment  of  rash  irritation  mav  be  thus  translated; 


150  KEW  BIOGRAPHfCAL 

"  Why  for  a  thanlcless  prince's  good,  \ 

Do  brother  soldiers  toil  ? 

When  all  he  give  us  for  our  blood 

Is  canvas,  paint  and  cil." 

We  cannot  be-  surprised,  that  such  a  return  for  an 
intended  kindness  should  offend  the  prince,  and  that 
]^e  resolved  to  punish  the  author,  who  saved  himself 
by  flight ;  but  at  the  moment  of  his  departure,  riding 
boldly  to  the  royal  tent,  he  spoke  as  follows  :  "  Such, 
Sire,  is  your  usage  of  a  man  covered  with  wounds, 
and  who  has  shed  his  blood  in  your  service,  and  all 
for  what  ?  because  he  will  not  be  a  flatterer  or  a  pan- 
der. Permit  me,  however,  before  I  take  my  leave, 
to  communicate  to  your  Majesty,  a  necessary  truth, 
which  many  of  these  polite  gentlemen,  who  so  assidu- 
ously attend  your  court,  will  not  venture  to  tell,  tho' 
tliere  is  not  a  man  amongst  them,  who  is  not  of  the 
same  opinion.  You  are  scrupulously  severe  in  re- 
marking the  faillts  of  your  servants,  but  ungratefully 
tardy  in  acknowledging  or  rewarding  their  real 
merit."  With  these  words  he  applied  spurs  to  his 
horse. 

The  banished  courtier,  with  a  few  followers  attach- 
ed to  his  fortunes,  immediately  resolved  on  offering 
his  services  to  Prince  Cassimir,  son  of  the  Elector 
Palatine ;  but  on  his  journey,  being  struck  with  the 
charms  of  a  lady,  as  he  passed  through  a  country  town, 
his  expedition  to  the  Palatinate  was  thrown  aside,  and 
for  a  time,  his  military  ardour  cooled.  This  Lady, 
"who,  upon  enquiry,  proved  to  be  Susannah  de  Zeray 
of  the  house  of  Vivonne,  and  a  celebrated  provincial 
toast,  was  afterwards  his  wife,  and  is  often  praised 
by  him  for  obedience,  a  qualification  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  the  happiness  of  D'Aubigny,  whom 
opposition  appears  to  have  always  roused  to  an  ex- 
travagant pitch  of  fury  and  resentment. 

And  here  we  hope  we  shall  be  pardoned  in  ma- 
king a  small  digression.  With  such  spirits,  it  seems 
the  wisest  and  kindest  part  of  friendship  and  affec- 


'  l^-EW  BIOGRAPHICAI.  191 

tion,  in  irritable  moments,  to  avoid  discussing  dispu- 
table points,  and  to  endeavor,  if  possible  by  diverting 
the  attention  toother  channels^,  and  by  the  fascinatioa 
of  female  charms,  to  soothe  and  soften,  rather  than 
fan  the  flames  of  discontent,  by  ill-timed  appeals,  and 
unavailing   expostulation,  however   reasonable   and 
just.     Peculiar  tempers  should  be  treated  like  bodily 
diseases,   by  abstinence,  regimen  and  diet;  and  the 
medical  man,  who  would  order  a  patient  with  v^^eak 
ancles  to  run  a  race,  or  prescribe   for  a  nervous,  hys- 
tefical    woman,     novels,    tragedy    and    green    tea^ 
would  surely  deserve  reprehension.     To  many  of  our 
female  readers,recommending  condescension  and  sub- 
mission, even  when  they  are  the  party  aggrieved,  will 
probably  appear  a  mortifying  lesson  ;   but  the  ad- 
vantage it  will    give  them  in  the   cool  hours  of  re- 
flection, will  make  ample  compensation  for  the  sa- 
crifice.    A  neglect  or  contempt  of  this  apparently 
trifling  point,  has,  in  a  thousand  instances,  hurried 
youth,  beauty  and  accomplishments,  to  a  life  of  wretch- 
edness, whilst  the  plainest  and  most  homely  women 
alive,  without  one  attraction  corporal  or  mental,  by 
attending  to  this,  which,  though  no  science,  is,  in 
some  cases,  of  more  importance  than  them  all,  have 
passed  through  life  with  ease,  satisfaction  and  com- 
fort. 

But  to  return.  Letters  were,  in  the  mean  time, 
,  delivered  to  D'Aubigny  from  the  king,  which,  affect- 
ing the  pride  of  injured  worth,  he  threw,  unopened, 
into  the  fire.  Mixing,  however,  a  little  worldly  po- 
licy with  his  resentment,  he  at  last  returned  to  his 
master,  after  having  received  repeated  assurances, 
that  his  offences  should  be  overlooked.  But  he  soon 
found,  that,  in  his  absence,  the  catholics  had  been 
busy  with  Henry,  who  began  seriously  to  think  of  ma- 
king his  peace,  by  abjuring  his  religion,  a  circumstance 
which  soon  after  took  place.  In  this  business,  Mon- 
sieur Seguier,  a  corrupted  protestant  was  a  powerful  in- 
strument,  who  strongly  advised  a  removal  to  Paris, 


192  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAI, 

which  D'Aubigny  violently  opposed,  and,  in  the  midst 
of  a  warm  conversation,  in  the  royal  presence,  observ- 
ing Seguier  looking  out  of  a  window,  he  stepped  up  to 
him  and  said,  "  Monsieur  Seguier,  do  you  perceive 
a  precipice  from  the  window  where  we  stand/'  Yes, 
replied  Seguier,  the  most  timid  of  mortals,  "  and  a 
tremendous  one  it  is.  I  shudder  and  grow  giddy  only 
with  looking  at  it."  I  advise  you  then.  Sir,  to  make 
up  your  mind  on  the  subject  of  the  king's  journey. 
If  he  goes  to  Paris,  myself  and  a  score  or  two  of 
friends  have  resolved,  that  you  shall  take  a  leap  from 
this  identical  window."  (Seguier  drew  back,)  "  You 
need  not  doubt  what  1  say,  it  will  as  certainly  be  the 
case,  as  that  God  made  Moses." 

By  this  and  other  extravagances,  Henry  was  again 
offended,  and  sw^ore  in   a    transport  of  passion,  he 
would  destroy  him.    On  such  an  occasion,  most  men 
would  have  fled ;  but  he,  who  had  reason  to  expect, 
at  least,  who  had  merited  punishment,  knew  whom 
he  had  to  deal  with.     As  soon,  therefore,  as  he  was 
apprized  of  the  royal  resentment,  he   rushed,  with- 
out previous  notice,  into   the  presence  of  the   king, 
who  reproached  and  threatened  him,  as  well  for  the 
general  offensive  impropriety  of  his  conduct,  as  the 
present  indecency  of  his  sudden  intrusion.     "  I  am 
come  to  know,"    said  he,  laying  hold  of  the  king's 
hand,  "  what  reward  I  am  to  meet  with  for  my  past 
services  ;  do  you  wish  to  be  considered  by  posterity 
as  a  good  prince,  or  a  merciless  tyrant .?"     After  a 
long  pause,   during  which  sensibility  and  affection 
triumphed    over  resentment,    Henry  replied,    "you 
know  D'Aubigny  I  love  you  ;  but  what  can  be  done 
with  Seguier,  for  you  have  offended  him  beyond  the 
powder  of  forgiveness  ;  pray  try  to  make  your  peace 
with  him."     "That  shall  be  done  in  an  instant,"  re- 
plied D'Aubigny,  who  had  seen  Seguier,  as  he  passed 
the  antichamber  j    "  be  so    good  Monsieur  Seguier, 
(at  the  same  time  opening  the  door,)  as  to  inform  his 
majesty,  what  you  have  to  aliedge  against  me  s"  with 


DICTIONARY^  193 

a  significant  look,  and  laying  his  hand  on  his  sword, 
unobserved  by  the  king.  '*  Nothing  in  nature,"  re- 
plied the  minister,  as  he  entered  the  room  with  a 
low  bow  ;  "I  am  convinced  his  majesty  has  not  a 
servant  of  equal  fidelity,  or  a  more  valiant  soldier  ia 
his  dominions."  Thus  D'Aubis^nv,  notwithstandins: 
all  his  extravagances,  was  once  more  taken  into  fa- 
vour. 

]5ut  however,  zealously  Henry  might  wish  D'Au- 
bigny  to  follow  his  example,  nothing  could  prevail 
on  him  to  abandon  the  protestant  cause,  a  circum- 
stance which  rendered  his  continuance  at  court  rather 
unpleasant,  for  the  king  was  perpetually  teazinghiiii 
to  quit  the  reformed  church.  He,  therefore  retired 
to  the  country,  where  he  pas^d  a  whole  winter  in  an 
examination  of  the  merits  of  the  cause.  *'  1  sat  down 
in  good  earnest,  says  he,  and  diligently  perused  the 
works  of  Pangerole  and  Campion,"  (two  eminent, 
catholic  writers.)  *'  I  was  pleased  and  almost  con- 
vinced by  the  strong  arguments  and  methodic  arrange- 
ment of  Bsllarmine  ;  but  the  well  prepared  poison  of 
the  cardinal  was  effectually  counteracted,  by  the 
powerful  arguments  of  Whitaker  and  Lambert." 
But  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that,  howeyer  the  king 
might  profess  to  differ  with  D'x\ubigny,  he  could  not 
rest  satisfied,  during  a  severe  illness  without  a  long 
religious  conversation  with  him,  in  which  he  was  par- 
ticularly earnest  to  know  his  opinion,  with  respect  to 
the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost. 

As  a  firm  resister  of  ecclesiastical  oppression  and  a 
protestant  pillar,  he  attended  their  synod  as  a  deputy, 
and  on  a  certain  occasion  was  highly  provoked  by 
the  conduct  of  the  President  Canaye.  D^Aubigny 
answered,  in  aspirited  manner,  a  virulent  attack  of  the 
president,  on  the  conduct  and  tenets  of  the  hugonots, 
who  thus  interrupted  him,  "  is  the  service  of  the  king 
and  the  good  of  the  state  to  be  forever  disturbed  ?" 
*'  And  pray,  Sir,  who  are  you,  cried  D'Aubigny,  who 
pretend  to  instruct  me  in  my  dutv  to  the  king  ?     I 

Vol.  II.  No.  12,  B2 


194  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


^ 


both  knew  and  practised  it,  when  you  were  a  prating 
boy,  with  a  satchel  at  your  back.  Was  it  worthy  of 
your  master,  or  did  he  think  it  the  only  business  for 
wh]chT/ou  were  qualified,  thus  to  set  the  province  in 
a  flame,  by  opposing  a  royal  edict  to  the  express 
word  of  God  ?  Learn,  young  man,  to  be  silent,  and 
attentive  to  the  words  of  your  superiors  both  in  age 
and  ability,  who  have  an  independent,  deliberative 
vote  in  this  assembly,  and  a  right  to  dehver  their 
opinion  on  any  subject/'  "  When  and  what  am  I  r""! 
exclaimed  the  astonished  Canaye.  "  What  are  youP'^J 
said  D'Aubigny.  You  are  a  mouse,  breaking  yourj 
teeth  against  a  file.''' 

But  in  spite   of  industry  or  zeal,  the  protestanfel 
cause,  from  regal  defection,  and  the  corruption  ol 
courts,  rapidly  declined  y  for  few  like  the  subject  of 
our  present  article  could  resist  the  blandishments  or' 
the  gold  of  the  king.     For  this  reason,  and  conscious-j 
of  their  own  sinister  views,  many  of  his  party  were 
fearful  and  jealous,  that  D'Aubigny  only  waited  like 
themselves,  till  a  sufficient  bribe  was  offered.  "What 
is  the  meaning,"  said  one,  who  was  purchased,  but 
fancied  it  was  not  known,  "  What  is  the  meaning  of 
Madame  la  Varenne  making  you  so  many  visits?  I 
have  seen  her  come  out  of  your  appartments,  at  least 
a  dozen  of  times."     She  has  tried  a  dozen  of  times 
to  do  that  with  mCy  lyhich  she  accomplished  with  you> 
at  one  visit,  you  rascal. 

He  would  never  kneel  to  Henry,  for  which,  be- 
ing reproached  by  the  Duke  de  Viileroy,  he  answer- 
cd,  "  I  consider  and  treat  his  majesty  as  a  king,  but 
will  never  pay  him  the  adoration  of  a  God." 

The  Duke  of  Buillon,  whose  esteem  our  protes- 
tant  hero  had  engaged  for  thirty  years,  was  at  length 
offended,  by  the  firmness  of  his  religious  principles, 
though  he  had  himself  been  originally  arigidhugonot, 
but  softened  by  court  manoevres.  On  a  certain  oc- 
casion, he  was  advising  the  protesiants  to  give  up- 
their  fortified  towns,  adding,  that  there  was  wo  rea- 


DICTIONARY,  195 

son  to  doubt  of  royal  deniency,  but  that  if  it  proved 
otherwise,  iheiYs  would  he  the  merit  and  glory  of 
martyrdom.  We  are  infinitely  obliged  to  the  Duke/' 
replied  D'Aubigny  "  for  his  kindness,  and  are  well 
acquainted  with  the  sufferings  of  those  saints  and 
holy  men,  w^ho,  in  perilous  and  persecuting  times, 
died  in  the  cause  of  truth;  but  I  am  surprised,  that 
a  person  equally  devoid  of  religious  truth,  or  political 
sincerity,  should  venture  to  touch  on  such  a  subject. 
The  man,  who  like  Judas,  abandons  his  Saviour  for 
twenty  pieces  of  silver,  is  an  odious  traitor;  but  he, 
who  is  instrumental,  or  persuades  them  to  part  with 
their  safe-guard,  from  treacherous  and  blood-thirsty 
men,  is  little  better  than  an  insidious  informer,  or  a 
common  hangman."  The  Duke  struck  dumb  with 
truth,  blushed,  hung  down  his  head  and  retired. 

Becoming,  at  last,  disgu-^ted  with  his  countrymen 
and  the  preponderance  of  catholic  councils,  he  set 
out  for  Geneva,  where  he  was  received  with  the 
greatest  honour,  and,  after  all  his  dangers,  breathed 
his  last  in  that  land  of  Calvinism,  in  the  year  1630. 

Besides  his  Life,  he  left  several  other  writings,  the 
most  remarkable  of  which  are  his  "  Universal  Histo- 
ry," and  his  "  Baron  of  Foeneste,"  a  singular,  but 
entertaining  work,  in  the  form  of  dialogues,  with 
many  sarcastic  descriptions  of  the  fashions,  follies 
and  luxuries  of  the  fine  gentlemen  of  that  day. 

DAVENPORT,  (Reverend  John)  one  of  the 
settlers  of  Connecticut,  was  born  in  the  city  of  Coven- 
try, in  Warwickshire,  England,  1597.  His  father  was 
Mayor  of  that  city.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  was 
admitted  a  student  in  the  university  of  Oxford,  where 
he  made  great  progress  in   learning   and    religion. 

Whefi  he  was  nineeteen,  he  became  a  constant 
preacher  in  the  city  of  London,  from  which  period 
he  appears,  upon  all  occasions,  to  have  been  actuated 


196  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


by  the  most  laudable  zeal  of  promoting  the  general, 
welfare  of  the  church. 

About  the  year  1626,  he  united  with  a  number  oi 
wealthy  and  respectable  citizens,  in  a  desire  of  pur- 
chasing all  the  church  lands,  which  were  in  the  hands 
of  laymen,  and  with  the  profits  arising  from  them  J 
to  maintain  a  constant,  able,   and  laborious  ministry,] 
in  those  parts  of  the  kingdom,  where  the  people  be- 
ing remarkably  ignorant,  stood  greatly  in  need  ol 
instruction.     Such   incredible  progress   was  made  in 
this   charitable  scheme,  that    all  these  lands  would 
have  been  soon  honestly  recovered  to  the  immediate 
service  of  the  reformed  religion ;  but.  Bishop  Laud 
viewing  the  undertaking  with  a  jealous  eye,  lest  it 
might   serve  the  cause  of  non-conformity,  caused  a 
bill  to  be   exhibited  in  the  Exchequer  Chamber,  by 
the  king's  Attorney-General,  against  those  persons, 
who  had  the  management  of  the  affair.     By  these 
means,  an  act  of  court  was  procured,  condemning  the 
proceedings  as  highly  dangerous  both  to  church  and 
state;  the  conveyances  made  to  the  charitable  design 
were  declared  to  be  illegal,  the  company  was   dis- 
solved, and  the  m.Gney  was  confiscated  to  the  use  of 
his  majesty ;  but  as  the  conduct  of  the  court  was,  in 
this  instance,  highly  resented  by  the  religious  part 
of  the  nation,  the  crime  was  never  prosecuted. 

From  this  time,  however,  the  intolerant  Laud, 
narrowly  Avatched  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Davenport, 
whom,  as  he  soon  after  discovered  to  be  inclined  to 
non- conformity,  he  marked  out  as  an  object  of  ven- 
geance. Mr.  Davenport,  therefore,  convinced  of 
the  implacable  resentment  of  this  strenuous  advocate, 
for  religious  uniformity,  resigned  his  pastoral  charge 
in  Coleman  street,  in  hopes  of  being  able  to  avert  the 
impending  storm  ;  but,  in  this,  his  expectations  were 
sadly  disappointed  ;  for  he  was  so  constantly  harrass- 
ed  by  one  furious  pursuivant  or  another,  that  be 
was  obliged  to  leave  the  kingdom  and  retire  to  Hol- 
land.    In  1633,  he  arrived  at  Amsterdam,  where  he 


DICTIONARY-  297 

was  received  as  colleague  pastor,  with  the  aged  Mr. 
Paget ;  but  after  having  resided  there  for  about  two 
years,  finding  that  he  could  not  conscientiously  ad- 
minister baptism,  in  the  indiscriminate  manner  then 
practised  in  the  Dutch  churches,  he  desisted  from  his 
ministry^ 

While  he  was  in  Amsterdam,  he  received  letters 
from  Mr.  Cotton,  of  Boston,  New  England,  inform- 
ing him  of  the  prosperous  situation  of  the  churches  in 
the  new  colonies,  in  consequence  of  which,  he  re- 
turned to  London,  and  having  shipped  himself  to- 
gether with  Messieurs  Samuel  Eaton,  Theophilus  Ea- 
ton, Edward  Flopkins,  Thomas  Gregson,  and  many 
others  of  good  characters  and  fortunes,  arrived  at  Bos- 
ton, 26th  July,  1637.  These  were  in  general  mern- 
bers  of  his  congregation,  who,  on  account  of  the 
esteem  they  had  for  his  person  and  ministry,  resolved 
to  accompany  him  to  this  distant  country.  Mr.  Ea« 
ton  and  Mr.  Hopkins,  had  been  merchants  in  Lon- 
don, possessed  great  estates,  and  were  n^en  of  emi- 
nence for  their  abilities  and  integrity.  The  fame  of 
Mr.  Davenport^  and  the  character  of  those,  who  ac- 
companied him,  made  the  people  of  Massachusetts 
exceedingly  desirous,  that  they  should  settle  in  that 
commonwealth.  Great  pains  were,  accordingly,  ta- 
ken not  only  by  particular  persons  and  townships,  but 
also  by  the  general  court  to  prevail  on  them  to  fix  on 
some  spot  within  their  jurisdiction  ;  but  they  were  de- 
termined to  plant  a  distinct  colony  by  themselves. 
By  this  time,  the  English  had  become  acquainted  with, 
that  fine  tract  along  the  shore  from  Saybrook  to  Fair- 
field, which,  on  account  of  the  fertility  of  its  soil,  and 
its  fine  harbours,  was  represented  as  being  most  hap- 
pily situated  both  for  commerce  and  navigation.  Mr. 
Davenport's  company,  therefore,  projected  a  settle- 
ment in  that  part  of  the  country. 

The  lands  and  harbours,  on  the  sea  coast  of  Con- 
necticut being  sufficiently  explored  in  the  fall'of  1637 
by  Mr.  Eaton  and  others,  they  pitched  upon  Quinni- 


198  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAI 

pine,  which  has  since  been  called  New-Haven,  fof 
the  place  of  their  settlement,  and,  thither  Mr.  Daven- 
pf:a*t  removed  with  his  company  in  March  1638. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  ostensible  reasons 
nssigned  by  these  colonists  for  their  removal  from 
Massachusetts,  it  is  probable  that  the  real  motive 
with  the  principal  men,  was  the  desire  of  being  at 
the  head  of  anew  government,  modelled  both  in  ci- 
vil and  religious  matters,  agreeably  to  their  own  ap- 
prehensions. It  had  been  an  observation  of  Mr. 
Davenport,  that  v/henever  a  reformation  had  been  ef- 
fected in  the  church,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  it  had 
rested  where  it  had  been  left  by  the  reformers ;  and 
that  it  could  not  be  advanced  another  step.  He  was 
nov/  embarked  in  a  design  of  forming  a  civil  and  reli- 
gious constitution,  as  near  as  possible  to  scriptural 
precept  and  example,  and  the  principal  gentlemen, 
who  accompanied  him  to  America,  had  the  same 
views.  In  laying  the  foundation  of  a  new  colony, 
there  was  a  great  probability,  that  they  might  accom- 
modate all  matters  of  church  and  commonwealth  to 
their  own  sentiments;  but  in  Massachusetts  the  prin- 
cipal men  were  fixed  in  the  chief  seats  of  govern- 
ment, which  they  were  likely  to  keep,  and  their  civil 
and  religious  policy  were  already  framed.  Besides 
sentiments  of  antinominianism  had  taken  such  deep 
root  at  Boston,  that  Mr.  Davenport  with  his  leading 
men,  might  judge,  that  the  people,  who  came  with 
them,  might  be  much  less  exposed  to  the  danger  of 
corruption  from  these  tenets,  in  a  new  plantation,  than 
in  Massachusetts.  These  might  all  unite  their  influ- 
ence with  Mr.  Davenport  and  his  company  to  deter- 
mine them  to  begin  a  new  colony. 

Soon  after  their  arrival  at  New-Haven,  at  the  close 
of  a  day  spent  in  fasting  and  prayer,  they  entered  into 
what  they  termed  a  plantation  covenant,  in  which  they 
solemnly  bound  themselves,  to  be  guided  by  the  rules 
of  scripture,  in  all  matters,  respecting  either  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  church,  the  elections  of  magistrates. 


DICTIONARY.  199 

or  the  enacting  of  laws:  and  besides  thls^  there  ap' 
pears,  for  the  first  year,  to  have  been  no  other  act  of 
either,  civil,  mihtary  or  ecclesiastical  authority. 

This,  however,  could  only  be  considered  as  a  tem- 
porary expedient,  till  they  should  be  at  leisure  to  fix 
npon  a  more  precise  form  of  government,  The  plan- 
ters of  New  Haven,  therefore,  and  those  of  Hartford, 
which  w^as  settled  about  the  same  time,  convened 
on  the  14th  January  1639,  where  after  mature  de* 
liberation,  they  adopted  a  constitution  or  form  of  go- 
vernment, in  which  the  venerable  Davenport,  and 
those  connected  with  him,  discovered  such  wisdom 
in  providing  for  the  freedom  and  liberties  of  them- 
selves and  posterity,  that,  though  formed  at  that  early 
period,  when  the  rights  of  man  were  but  little  under- 
stood, it  has  continued,  with  little  variation,  to  the 
present  time,  to  be  the  constitution  of  Connecticut. 

And  here  we  may  remark,  that  the  Fathers  of 
Connecticut  as  to  politics,  w^ere  republicans.  They 
rejected  with  abhorrence  the  doctrines  of  the  divine 
rights  of  kings,  passive  obedience  and  non-resistence, 
and  with  Sidney,  Hampden  and  other  great  writers 
they  believed  that  all  civil  power  and  government 
was  in  the  people  ;  and  upon  theso  sure  and  im- 
moveable foundations,  they  formed  their  civil  consti- 
tutions. 

After  this  establishment  of  civil  government,  the 
.  proper  education  of  youth  was  one  of  the  first  objects 
of  their  care.  It  was  accordingly  enacted  about  the 
year  1663,  at  which  time  the  colony  had  in  conse- 
quence of  their  wise  regulations  become  pretty  ex- 
tensive, that  "  every  town  consisting  of  fifty  families 
should  maintain  a  good  school,  in  which  reading  and 
writing  should  be  taught,  and  that  a  grammar  school 
should  be  instituted  in  every  county  town."  Of  these 
last  Mr.  Davenport  was  the  principal  promoter,  who 
sensible  of  the  importance  of  public  seminaries,  had 
seme  time  before  written  to  Governor  Hopkins,  then 
in  England,  upon  the  subject,  in  consequence  of 


200  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAt 

which,  that  gentleman,  had  by  his  last  will,  dated 
1657,  bequeathed  a  legacy  of  13241.  sterling  (5879 
dollars)  "  as  an  encouragement  in  these  foreign? 
plantations  of  bringing  up  and  educating  youths, 
both  at  the  grammar  school  and  college."  In  1664, 
this  legacy  was  equally  divided,  by  the  advice  of  Mr. 
Davenport,  between  New-Haven  and  Hartford,  in 
both  which  places,  grammar  schook  have  been  sup- 
ported ever  since.  Upon  this  foundation  of  scholas-j 
tic  establishments  in  Connecticut,  future  legislator: 
have  improved,  so  that  there  is  no  part  in  the  United 
States,  where  the  education  of  youth  is  equally  attend- 
ed to. 

Were  we  to  particularize  the  various  measures,  in 
which  Mr.  Davenport  took  an  active  part,  to  promot( 
the  interest  of  this  colony,  the  detail  would  be  too  te- 
dious •  but  to  such  of  our  readers  as  wish  for  more 
particular  information,  we  take  the  liberty  of  recom- 
mending a  valuable  and  highly  interesting  publication 
of  the  Reverend  Dr.  Trumbull,  entitled  "  A  com- 
plete history  of  Connecticut,  civil  and  ecclesiastical, 
from  the  emigration  of  its  first  settlers,  to  the  year 
1713.'* 

Mr.  Davenport,  in  the  year  1667,  though  univer- 
sally beloved  by  his  flock  at  New-Haven,  and  then 
in  his  seventieth  year,  was  prevailed  on,  by  the  ear- 
liest solicitation  of  the  church  and  congregation  at 
Boston,  to  remove  to  that  capital,  where  he  died  of  an 
apoplexy,  March  15th,  i670. 

He  is  characterized  as  a  hard  student,  and  universal 
scholar,  and  as  a  laborious,  prudent  and  exempla- 
ry minister.  He  left  a  respectable  family,  and  his 
descendants  have  supported  its  dignity  to  the  present 
time,  some  of  them  having  been  admitted  into  the 
ministry  and  others  m.agistrates  of  Connecticut. 

DAVIES,  (Reverend  Samuel),  president  of  the 
college  of  New  Jerst7  was  born  3d  November,  i742. 


DICTION  ARYi  201 

in  the  county  of  Newcastle  on  Delaware.  His  father 
was  a  planter,  who  lived  with  great  simplicity  of  man- 
ners and  supported  the  character  of  an  honest  and  pious 
man  till  his  death.  His  mother  was  a  woman  of  great 
worth  and  eminently  distinguished  for  a  strict  atten- 
tion to  every  moral  and  religious  doty.  They  had 
only  one  daughter ;  and  the  subject  of  this  article, 
who  was  born  about  five  years  after  his  sister,  was 
their  only  son. 

As  there  was  no  school  in  the  neighbourhood,  Mrs. 
Davies  herself  taught  Samuel  to  read  ;  iiud  he  is  said 
even,  at  that  early  period,  to  have  made  such  profi- 
ciency, as  to  have  surprised  every  person,  who  had 
an  opportunity  of  observing  it. 

He  continued  at  home  with  his  parents,  till  he  was 
about  ten  years  old,  when  he  was  sent  to  an  English 
school,  at  some  distance  from  his  father's,  where  he 
continued  for  two  years  and  made  great  progress  in 
learning.  During  the  first  twelve  years  of  his  life, 
as  is  common  with  most  sprightly  children,  notwith- 
standing their  being  blest  with  the  best  examples  set 
before  them,  he  paid  little  attention  to  the  afiairs  of 
God  and  religion  ;  but  about  that  period,  he  was 
awakened  to  a  solemn  thoughtfulnessand  an  anxious 
concern  about  his  eternal  state  was  so  deeply  imprint- 
ed on  his  mind,  as  to  make  him  habitually  uneasy  and 
restless,  until  he  might  obtain  satisfactory  scriptural 
evidence  of  his  in  terestin  the  forgiving  love  of  God. 

It  will  not  be  expected  in  a  publication  of  this 
kind,  that  we  should  particularly  specify  the  various 
steps  of  his  progress  in  religious  life.  We  shall,  there- 
fore, only  observe,  that  from  the  time  he  first  received 
these  impressions,  he  became  uniformly  guarded  in 
his  conduct  and  indefatigable  in  his  exertions  to  pre- 
pare himself  for  the  gospel  ministry,  for  which  impor- 
tant ofiice  he  had  been  devoted  by  his  parents  from 
his  infancy.  A  diary,  which  he  began  about  this 
time  and   continued  to  keep,  as   long  as  his  leisure 

Vol.. II.  No.  12.  C2 


-^02  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


] 


would  permit,  clearly  shews  how  intensely  his  mind 
was  set  upon  heavenly  things;  hov/  observant  he  was' 
of  the  temper  of  his  heart,  and  how  watchful  over 
his  thoughts,  words  and  actions.  Did  any  censure 
his  foibles,  or  juvenile  indiscretions?  They  would  have 
done  it  compassionately,  had  they  known  how  se- 
verely he  censured  them  himself;  for  the  tribunal 
daily  erected  in  his  own  bosom  was  more  critical  in 
scrutinizing,  and  more  impartial  and  severe  in  pass- 
ing sentence,  ^  than  either  his  friends  or  enemies  could 
be. 

Being  now  instigated  by  the  most  eager  desire  of 
being  soon  in  a  situation  of  serving  mankind  to  the 
best  advantage,  he,  amidst  many  obvious  inconven- 
iences made  surprising  progress  in  learning,  and 
sooner  than  could^  have  been  expected,  was  found 
competently  qualified  for  the  ministerial  office.  He 
passed  the  usual  previous  trials,  with  uncommon 
approbation,  having  far  exceeded  the  raised  expecta- 
tions of  his  friends  and  admirers. 

When  he  was   licensed   to  preach,  such  was  the 
opinion  formed  of  his  zeal  and  abilities,  as  to  excite 
the   earnest   desires  of   every  vacant  congregation, 
where  he  was  known,  to  obtain  the  happiness  of  his 
stated  ministrations.     But  far  from  gratifying  his  na- 
tural inclination  to  the  society  of  his  friends,  or  con- 
sulting his  own  ease,  and  move^  by  what  he  thought 
conscientious  duty,  he  undertook  the  charge  of  some 
dissenting  congregations  in  Virginia,  separated  from 
all  his  brethren,  and  exposed  to  the  censure  and  resent- 
ment of  many.     But  the  more  he  was  known  in  these 
parts,  the  more  were  prejudices  removed;  contempt 
was  gradually  turned  into  reverence;  the  number  of 
his  enemies  daily  diminished,  and  his  friends  increas- 
ed.    Nor  did  he  labour  in  vain,  for  his  ministry  was 
blessed  by  the  conversion  of  a  great  number  both  of 
whites  and  blacks  ;  for  the  proof  of  which,  we  refer 
•aur  readers  to  his  own  narrative,  sent  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Beilaroy,  and  by  him  published,  and  to  liis  letters 


DICTIONARY.  203 

to  some  gentlemen  of    the  *^  Society  in  London,  for 
propagating  religion  among  the  poor." 

Nor  was  his  usefulness  confined  to  the  pulpit. 
His  comprehensive  mind  could  take  under  view,  tlie 
grand  interests  of  his  country  and  of  religion  at  once  ; 
and  these  interests,  as  well  as  those  of  his  friends, 
he  was  ever  ready  zealously  to  serve.  He  was,  in 
particular,  an  active  instrument,  in  stirring  up  the 
people  of  Virginia,  to  a  spirited  resistance  against  the 
barbarous  incursions  of  the  Indians,  which,  about  the 
year  1750,  were  very  frequent  upon  the  frontiers  of 
that  colony. 

In    the  year   1753,    he  was   chosen    by   the    sy- 
nod of  Nevir-York,  at  the  solicitation  of  the  trustees 
of  Jersey  College,  as  a  fit  person  to  accompany  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent  to  Great  Britain  and  Ire- 
land, in  order  to   solicit   benefactions   for  the   said 
College.     As  this  manifested  the  high  opinion,  which 
both  the  synod  and  corporation  entertained  of  his  po- 
pular talents  and  superior  abilities,  so  his  ready  com- 
pliance to  undertake  that  service,  hazardous  and  dif- 
ficult in  itself,  and  precarious   in   its  consequences, 
which  required  him  to  overlook  his  domestic  connec- 
tions, however  tender  and  endearing,  manifested  his 
resolution  and  self-denial.     How  well  he  was  quali- 
fied as  a  solicitor,  is  witnessed  by  the  numerous  and 
large  benefactions,  which  he  received.     His  services, 
as  was  meet,  were  gratefully  accepted  by  his  consti- 
tuents ;  and  to  the  pious,  generous  and  public-spirit- 
ed charity  of  the  friends  of  learning  and  religion  in 
Great  Britain,  received  on  that  occasion,  as  well  as 
the  sum  collected  by  President  Burr,  which  we  have 
already  mentioned  in  our  memoirs  of  that  gentleman, 
does   the  College  of  New-Jersey,  owe   its   present 
flourishing  condition. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  mention,  that  when  he  re- 
turned from  his  voyage  to  Great  Britain,  he  entered 
again  on  his  laborious  and  beloved  task  of  preaching 
the  gospel  to  his  several  congregations;  and  continu- 


204  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ed  in  this  work  until  the  year  1759,  when  he  waJ 
elected  President  of  the  College  of  New- Jersey,  in 
the  room  of  the  late  Rev.  Mr.  Jonathan  Edwards. 
The  College,  before  he  came,  had  been  in  an  unhap- 
py situation  ;  partly  owing  to  the  length  of  that  me- 
lancholy period,  between  the  death  of  President  Burr 
and  his  successor,  and  partly  to  the  evil  dispositions 
and  practices  of  a  fevv^  members  of  the  society.  Pre- 
sident Burr  died  in  September  1757,  and  although, 
Mr.  Edwards  was  elected  a  few  days  after,  he  did 
not  take  upon  himself  the  government  of  the  college 
till  February  1758,  and  about  a  fortnight  after  took 
the  small  pox  of  which  he  died,  in  March  following. 
Mr.  Davies  was  not  initiated  in  his  office,  till  the  lat- 
ter end  of  July  1759  ;  so  that  the  college  lay  under 
the  obvious  disadvantages  of  a  bereaved  condition 
for  almost  two  years.  But  the  prudent  measures  ta- 
ken by  President  Davies  soon  surmounted  these  dis- 
advantages ;  so  that,  in  a  few  months,  a  spirit  of  em- 
ulation in  learning  and  morality,  as  had  been  usual, 
evidently  characterized  the  students  of  Nassau-Hall, 
Whilst  he  continued  President,  his  labours  were 
great  and  his  application  to  study  was  necessarily 
more  int:ense  than  that  of  his  predecessors.  For  he 
came  to  this  seat  of  the  muses,  when  its  learning,  by 
the  eminent  abilities  of  President  Burr,  was  advanc- 
ed to  a  very  considerable  degree;  and  he  had  just 
emerged  from  a  sea  of  ministerial  labour  in  various 
j^laces,  wherein  a  common  genius  would  have  been 
able  to  have  made  but  little  improvement  in  acade- 
mical learning.  Besides  the  speedy  passage  he  had 
made  through  the  course  of  his  studies,  previous  to 
Lis  entering  into  the  ministry,  made  his  after  applica- 
tion the  more  necessary  for  so  important  and  elevat- 
ed a  situation.  He  was  determined  not  to  degrade 
his  office,  but  to  be  in  reality,  what  his  station  sup- 
posed him,  and  accordingly  exerted  himself  to  the 
utmost.  The  labours  of  the  day  seemed  to  him  ra- 
ther an  incentive  to  study  than  to  rest  in  the  night ; 


dictionary;  5205 

for  he  commonly  sat  up  till  12  o'cloek  and  oftenla-^ 
ter,  although  he  rose  by  break  of  day.  1  he  success 
was  proportionable,  for  by  the  mighty  efforts  of  his 
great  genius,  and  by  dint  of  industry,  he  left  the  col- 
lege oT  New- Jersey,  at  his  death,  in  as  high  a  state 
of  literary  merit,  as  it  had  ever  been  in,  since  its  first 
institution. 

There  is  reason  to  believe,  that  the  intense  appli- 
cation, with  which  Mr.  Davies  attended  to  the  duties 
of  his  office  was  one  great  cause  of  his  death.  The 
habit  of  his  body  was  plethorick ;  and  it  is  not  to  be 
doubted,  but  that  his  health  for  some  years,  had  very 
much  depended  upon  the  exercise  of  riding,  to  which 
he  was  necessarily  obliged,  while  he  lived  in  Virginia, 
though  even  then,  he  had  several  severe  fevers,  supr 
posed  to  arise  principally  from  his  application  to  stu- 
dy, in  the  intervals  of  riding  abroad.  When  he  came 
to  the  college,  he  scarcely  used  any  bodily  exercise, 
save  what  was  required  in  going  from  his  own  house 
to  Nassau-Hall,  which  is  a  space  of  about  iO  rods, 
five  or  six  times  a  day. 

In  the  latter  end  of  January  1761,  a  bad  cold  seiz- 
ed him,  and  in  order  to  relieve  him,  he  was  bled. 
The  same  day  he  transcribed  for  the  press  his  ser- 
mon on  the  death  of  the  late  king,  and  the  day  after 
preached  twice  in  the  college  hall,  by  all  which  the 
arm,  in  which  he  was  bled,  became  much  inflamed, 
arid  increased  his  former  indisposition.  On  the  Mon- 
day morning  after,  at  breakfast,  he  was  siezed  with  a 
violent  chilly  fit,  which  was  succeeded  by  an  inflam- 
atory  fever,  and  in  ten  days  brought  on  the  period  of 
his  life,  at  v/hich  time  he  had  only  arrived  at  the  37th 
year  of  his  age. 

It  is  much  to  be  lamented,  that  the  violence  of  the 
disorder,  of  which  this  excellent  man  died,  deprived 
him  of  the  regular  exercise  of  his  reason,  the  greater 
part  of  the  time  of  his  sickness.  Even  in  his  dcliriiun, 
however,  his  mind  discovered  the  favourite  objects 


205  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


^ 


of  his  concern,  the  prosperity  of  the  church  and  the 
good  of  mankind. 

In  the  year  17()5,  a  number  of  his  sermons  in  3 
vol.  octavo,  were  published  in  London  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Gibbons.  The  character  of  Mr.  Davies  as  a  man 
of  talents  and  real  piety,  being  well  known  in  Great 
Britain,  a  numerous  subscription  was  obtained  to  de- 
fray the  expences  of  the  undertaking,  and  the  emolu- 
ments arising  from  it  were  appropriated  to  the  use  of 
Mrs.  Davies  and  her  helpless  family,  consisting  of 
three  sons  and  two  daughters.  The  sermons,  which 
have  been  frequently  republished  since  that  time,  are 
deservedly  held  in  high  estimation,  as  they  are  writ- 
ten in  an  elegant  style,  and  treat,  in  the  most  masterly 
manner,  of  subjects  the  most  useful  and  important. 

DAVIS,  (Henry  Edwards)  a  learned  polemical 
writer,  was  born,  at  Windsor,  England,  July  11th 
1756,  and  took  his  Batchelor's  degree  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Oxford,  in  January  1778.  In  the  spring  of 
that  year,  he  distinguished  himself  amongst  the  earli- 
est examiners  of  some  remarkable  assertions  and  in- 
sinuations, yet  more  extraordinary,  introduced  by  Mr. 
Gibbon  in  his  "  History  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the 
Roman  Empire."  Mr.  Davis,  who,  at  the  moment 
cfhis  attacking  this  eminent  writer,  had  not  reached 
his  twenty  third  year,  accuses  him  of  misrepresenta- 
tion, inaccuracy  and  plagiarism  ;  asserts,  that  to  pre- 
vent detection,  he  artfully  adopts  a  mode  of  reference 
and  quotation,  peculiarly  loose,  incorrect  and  unsatis- 
factory ;  that,  for  the  sake  of  indulging  a  vein  ot  sple- 
netic wit,  he  imputes  to  the  fathers  and  other  venera- 
ble writers,  opinions  w^hich  cannot  be  deduced  from 
their  words,  without  the  most  unwarrantable  perver- 
sion ;  and  lastly,  that  instead  of  perusing  original 
works,  he  derives  most  of  his  authorities  from  French 
translations.  We  cannot  be  surprised  at  such  accu- 
sations having  excited,  in  a  peculiar  degree,  the  sensi- 


DICTIONARY.  207 

Vility  of  Mr.  Gibbon,  whose  temper  indeed  appears 
to  have  been  irritated  by  no  publication  of  his  nume- 
rous assailants,  except  by  the  "  Examination"  of  Mr. 
Davis.  Whether  this  effect  is  to  be  attributed  to  the 
degrading  nature  of  some  of  the  charges,  or  to  the.  un- 
answerable truths  of  others,  it  is  not  our  province  to 
determine  5  yet  so  important  are  many  oFAIr.  Davis's 
remarks,  that,  whoever  shall  publish  a  future  edition 
of  the  "  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Ro« 
man  Empire,"  would  render  an  essential  service  to 
the  cause  of  Christianity,  were  he  to  print  Mr.  Davis's 
"Examination,"  by  way  of  appendix. 

Mr.  Gibbon,  in  his  ''  Vindication,"  exerted  very 
considerable  efforts,  to  defend  himself  against  his  ju- 
venile opponent,  who  in  his  "  Reply,"  manifested  no 
ordinary  degree  of  firmness,  and  exhibited  such  proofs 
of  learning,  sagacity  and  zeal  for  the  Christian  cause, 
as  to  attract  the  public  attention  of  the  most  eminent: 
literary  characters  in  Great  Britain.  In  1780,  having 
entered  into  full  orders,  he  was  promoted  to  a  fellow- 
ship in  Baliol  college,  Oxford,  of  which  he,  for  some 
time  before  his  death,  was  tutor ;  an  office,  which 
he  discharged  with  the  greatest  solicitude  and  con- 
stancy. 

Mr.  Davis  had,  indeed,  acquired  avast  reputation 
by  his  book,  but  with  a  frame  delicate  and  tender 
from  his  birth,  he  had  qu^ified  himself  for  the  con- 
test, at  the  expence  of  his  constitution,  and  died 
Feb.  10th  1784,  in  his  twenty-eighth  year,  of  a  com- 
plication of  disorders,  brought  on  by  a  studious  and 
sedentary  life. 

We  have  already  observed,  that  Mr.  Gibbon's 
resentment  appears  never  to  have  beenrouzed  against 
any  of  his  numerous  opponents,  except  Mr.  Davis 
in  speaking  of  whose  critisism  he  calls  it  "  a  rustic, 
cudgel,"  while  he  styles  Bishop  Watson*s  "appology^, 
for  Christianity"  only  "  a  keen  weapon."  Whilst,  on 
the  one  hand.  It  must  be  universally  granted,  that 
Mt*.' Davis  was  endowed  with  remarkable  talents  for 


208  NEW  BIOGtf.APHICAL 

controversy,  yet,  on  the  other,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  he  writes  with  too  much  acrimony  ;  and  occa- 
sionally forgets  the  meek  spirit  of  his  divine  master. 
To  this,  however,  it  may  be  answered,  that  the  mild- 
ness of  our  Saviour  was,  on  one  occasion,  rouzed  to 
resistance,  when  he  beheld  the  house  of  God,  polut- 
ed  by  money  changers,  publicans  and  sinners ;  and 
it  cannot  be  denied,  that  a  bold  and  open  attack 
would  have  been  more  honourable,  on  the  part  of 
Mr.  Gibbon,  than  his  indirect  method  of  proceeding 
by  sneer,  sarcasm  and  implication  ;  by  which  he 
hath  repeatedly  excited  and  deserved  the  reproof  of 
his  adversaries. 

DAY,  (Thomas)  an  eminent  miscellaneous  wri- 
ter, the  only  son  of  Thomas  Day,  Esqr.  one  of  the 
collectors  of  the  port  of  London,  was   born  in  the 
year   1748.     After  having  jfinished  his  education  at 
the  University  of  Oxford,  he  entered  himself  of  the 
Society  of  the  Middle  Temple,  and  was  called  to  the 
bar  ;  but,  though  possessed  of  great  eloquence,  with 
a  mind  not  only  able  to  comprehend,  but  to  improve 
the  mode  of  judicial  proceedings,  he  was  disgusted 
with  the  technical  nicety  of  legal  process  ;  and  being 
possessed  of  an  ample  fortune,  much  augmented  by^ 
the  accumulation  of  a  long  minority,  he,  instead  oi 
practising  in  the  narrow  sphere  of  Westminsler-Hall^ 
devoted  his  mind  to  literary  pursuits,  and  became  tht 
advocate  of  the  human  species. 

After  his  marriage  in  1777,  he  lived  retired,  many' 
3^ears  at  Anningsley,  in  Surrey,  where  he  amused 
himself  with  the  occupation  of  a  large  farm,  more 
for  the  sake  of  maintaining  a  number  of  poor  families, 
whom  he  employed  upon  it,  than  with  any  view  to 
his  own  advantage.  He  occasionally  interfered  with 
the  politics  of  the  times,  with  the  honest  zeal  of  a 
disinterested  patriot,  and  the  manly  firmness  of  an  in- 
dependent country  gentleman.     But,  on  the  28th  of 


DICTIONARY.  203 

September,  i789,  a  period  was  put  to  his  valuable  life 
by  a  fall  from  his  horse,  as  he  was  riding  out  with 
some  gentlemen,  in  Berkshire. 

His  admirable  poem  of"  The  Dying  Negro,*'  pub- 
lished in  1773,  and  his  "  Fragment  of  a  Letter  on 
Negro  Slavery,"  mark  him  amongst  the  first  of  those, 
who  exerted  their  efforts  to  emancipate  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  human  race  from  cruelty  and  oppression. 
His  political  productions,  most  of  which  are  written 
with  respect  to  the  late  i^merican  war,  are  greatly- 
admired,  and  are  not  less  distinguished  for  nervous 
eloquence,  than  for  the  most  disinterested  patriotism, 
and  regard  to  the  rights  and  liberties  of  mankind. 

His  "  History  of  Sandford  and  Merton"  published 
in  1783,  will  long  remain  as  an  instance  of  the  suc- 
cessful application  of  genius  to  form  the  minds  of 
youth  to  active  and  manly  virtue.  It  consists  of  a 
variety  of  tales,  interwoven  with  a  story,  in  which 
two  children  and  their  tutor  are  the  principal  charac- 
ters, and  is  written  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  emi- 
nently calculated  both  to  delight  and  to  instruct. 
This  work  was  followed  by  another,  with  the  same 
benevolent  view,  entitled  "  The  history  of  Little 
Jack,'*  and  printed  in  1788. 

Plain  and  simple  in  his  habits,  denying  himself  all 
the  luxuries,  and  many  of  the  conveniences  of  life,  no 
man  could  expend  less  upon  himself,  or  bestow  more 
upon  the  necessities  of  others,  and  he  devoted  the 
greater  part  of  an  ample  income  to  acts  of  public 
charity. 

DE  FOE,  (Daniel)  an  English  writer,  equally 
famous  for  politics  and  poetry,  was  bred  a  hosier.  In 
that  situation  he  was  unsuccessful";  and  this  was  pro- 
bably the  reason,  which  induced  him  to  have  recourse 
to  his  pen  for  subsistence.  One  Tutchin,  having  in 
the  year  1700,  written  "  The  Foreigners,"  a  satire 
on  king  William,  and  the  whole  Dutch  nation^ 
De  Foe  wrote  *'  The    Trueborn  Englishman,"  as 

Vol.  II.  No!  12.  D  2 


210  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


an  antidote  to  it,  and  thereby  recommended  himself 
to  the  notice  of  his  sovereign,  who  did  not  fail  to  re4 
ward  him.  The  poem  had  a  prodigious  run,  nine 
editions  having  passed  under  his  own  inspection,  be- 
sides its  having  been  twelve  times  pirated.  Soon  af- 
ter the  revolution,  the  people  began  to  be  uneasy  at 
the  partiality,  which  their  new  king  discovered  to  his 
countrymen,  and  their  discontent  rose  so  high,  that 
he  was  obliged  to  dismiss  his  favorite  Dutch  guards. 
De  Foe,  who,  with  a  great  deal  of  spirit,  engaged  the 
enemies  of  the  new  government,  levelled  the  force 
of  his  satire  against  those,  who  valued  themselves  for 
being  trueborn  Englishmen,  and  exposed  the  fallacy 
of  that  prepossession,  for  which  the  English  nation  is 
so  remarkably  distinguished,  by  laying  open  the 
sourges  from  which  their  ancestors  originally  sprung. 

The  next  satire  of  any  consequence,  wTitten  by 
our  author,  was  entitled"  Reformation  of  Manners." 
It  was  aimed  at  some  persons  of  very  high  rank,  who 
rendered  themselves  a  disgrace,  instead  of  an  orna- 
iTient  to  their  country,  by  making  their  authority  sub- 
servient to  that  impiety  and  dissoluteness  of  manners, 
which  it  was  designed  to  suppress.  He  experienced 
some  difficulties  in  the  beginning  of  Queen  Anne's 
reign  ;  but  had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  afterwards 
some  signal  proofs  of  royal  favour,  and  wasemployedy 
during  the  administration  of  Lord  Godolphin,  in  some 
important  commissions.  From  this  period  till  the  end 
of  Queen  Anne's  reign,  in  i714,  he  wrote  an  amazing 
number  of  tracts,  thirty  of  which  have  been  collect- 
ed in  2  vol.  8vo.  He  was  the  author  of  a  periodical 
work,  called  "  The  Review".  The  paper  entitled 
"  Mercator,'*  was,  likewise,  supposed  to  come  from 
his  pen  ;  though  in  this,  he  w^as  only  an  occasional 
assistant. 

There  is  an  essay  of  his,  entitled  "  the  Original 
power  of  the  collective  body  of  the  people  of  Eng- 
land examined  and  asserted,"  in  which  he  shews 
himself  to  have  been  an  able  politician,  and  to  have 


I 


DICTIONARY*  ^11 

had  a  very  true  notion  of  civil  liberty.  He  also  wrote 
a  tract  entitled,  "  The  Shortest  way  with  the  Dissen- 
ters," which  contained  reflections  against  some  ec- 
clesiastics in  power,  for  breathing  too  much  a  spirit 
of  persecution.  Becoming  obnoxious  to  the  minis- 
try on  this  account,  he  was  obliged  to  explain  him- 
self, which,  being  a  man  of  great  firmness,  he  did 
very  explicitly,  and  without  the  smallest  reserve. 
When  he  was  afterwards  sentenced  to  stand  in  the 
pillory,  for  attacking  some  measures,  which  he 
thought  unconstitutional,  he  not  only  cheerfully  under- 
went the  punishment;  but,  at  the  same  time,  wrote 
*'  A  hymn  to  the  Pillory,"  as  a  defiance  of  their 
power. 

De  Fee  is  better  known   by  nothing  at  present, 
than  by  his  entertaining  "  History  of  Robinson  Cru- 
soe,"  an  admirable  performance,   which    has  gone 
through  editions  without  number,  and  though  a  ro- 
mance, is  written  in  so  natural  a  manner,  and  with 
€0  many  probable  incidents,  that  it  was  judged  to  be 
a  true  story,  for  some  time  after  its  publication.    But 
it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  whatever  scope   De  Foe 
might  have  given  to  his  imagination,  in  composing 
this  history,  he  was  not  altogether  without  a  founda- 
tion, concerning  which,  there   is  an  anecdote,  that 
does  no  great  credit  to  De  Foe's  character  as  a  man 
of  integrity.     When  captain  Woods  Rogers  touched 
at  the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  about  the  year  1710, 
he  brought  away  with  him  one  Alexander  Selkirk, 
a  Scots  sailor,  who  had  been  left  ashore  there  and 
iived  on  that  desolate  place  upwards  of   four  years. 
When  Selkirk  came  back  to   England,  in  the   year 
1711,  he  wrote  a  narrative  of  his  adventures,  which 
he  put  into  the  hands  of  De  Foe,  to  digest  for  publi- 
cation ;  but  he,  instead  of  fulfilling  the  expectations 
of  the  unfortunate  mariner,  ungenerously  converted 
the  materials  into  ".  The  History  of  Robinson  Cru- 
soe," returned  the  papers,  and   thus  was  guilty  of 


212  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

a  fraud,  for  which,  in  a  humane  view,  the  distirk^ 
guished  merit  of  that  romance,  can  never  atone. 

He  died  at  his  house  at  Ishngton,  in  1731.  All 
his  productions  of  the  romantic  species,  but  especial- 
ly the  last,  are  much  in  vogue ;  and,  on  account  of i 
their  moral  and  religious  tendency,  may,  very  pro- 
bably, in  some  measure,  counteract  the  pernicious 
effects  produced  by  the  too  general  circulation  of  i 
modern  novels,  those  occasional  vehicles  of  impiety 
and  infidelity. 

DEANE,  (SILAS)  was  a  native  of  Groton  in  the 
state  of  Connecticut ;  but  concerning  the  time  of  his 
birth,  we  have  no  information.  Being  a  man  consi- 
derably distinguished  for  literary  merits  and  commer- 
cial knowledge,  he  was  a  few  months  previous  to  the 
declaration  of  American  Independence^,  appointed  by 
the  Secret  Committee  of  Congress  as  commercial  and 
political  agent  for  this  country  in  France,  where  he 
arrived  in  June  1776. 

When  on  September  26th,  following,  congress  had 
resolved  to  appoint  three  commissioners  to  France, 
lor  the  purpose  of  endeavouring  to  prevail  on  that 
court  to  enter  into  a  treaty  w-ith  the  UniflBd  States, 
and  to  procure  a  supply  of  arms  and  ammunition. 
Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Deane  and  Mr.  Lee,  were 
the  persons  elected.  The  previous  appointment  of 
Mr.  Deane  to  the  station  above  mentioned,  was  the 
natural  cause,  of  his  being  one  of  those  entrusted  with 
this  confidential  and  highly  important  business  ;  but 
those  who  had  the  best  opportunity  of  being  acquaint- 
ed with  him,  seemed  to  be  doubtful  either  of  his  pru- 
dence or  integrity,  for  the  representatives  of  Connecti- 
cut, were  the  only  delegates  out  of  the  thirteen  states, 
who  declined  voting  for  him. 

Mr.  Deane  as  appears  from  the  following  particu- 
lars, had  not  been  long  invested  with  his  new  com- 
mission, before  he  exceeded  the  limits  of  the  powers 
prescribed  to  him.     In  the  latter  end  of  April  1777, 


DICTIONARY.  215 

Monsieur  duCoudray,  with  several  more  military  cha- 
racters, came  over  to  this  country,  with  a  view  of 
serving  in  the  American  army,  upon  terms  agreed 
upon  between  them  and  Mr.  Deane,  who  had  enter- 
ed into  a  contract  with  du  Coudray  for  fifty  officers. 
Coudray  was  to  be  commander  in  chief  of  the  artil- 
lery and  engineers ;  to  have  the  rank  of  major  gene- 
ral ;  to  be  under  no  orders  but  those  of  congress  and 
general  Washington ;  to  have  the  pay  of  major  gene- 
ral in  a  separate  department  ;  and  to  be  pensioned 
for  life. 

At  the  appearance  of  this  unexpected  agreement, 
so  far  exceeding  Mr.  Deane's  instructions,  which 
"went  no  farther,  on  that  subject,  than  to  authorize 
him  "  to  engage  engineers  not  exceeding  four,"  con- 
gress was  exceedingly  embarrassed,  as  there  was  no 
possibility  of  carrying  it  into  effect,  without  offering 
so  great  an  insult  to  their  o\  n  American  officers  of 
the  first  rank,  as  would  oblige  them  in  honour  to 
quit  the  service. 

Various  were  the  expedients  proposed  in  Congress 
to  extricate  themselves  from  this  unpleasant  predica- 
ment. iWresol-ution  was,  however,  at  last,  adopted, 
that  Monfieur  du  Coudray  should  be  informed,  that 
Congress  could  not  comply  with  the  agreement  he 
had  entered  into  with  Mr.  Deane,  but  that  impress- 
ed with  a  favourable  opinion  of  his  merits  and  abili- 
ties, they  would  cheerfully  give  him  such  rank  and 
appointments,  as  should  not  interfere  with  the  great 
duties  they  owed  to  their  constituents;  and,  soon  af- 
ter appointed  him  inspector  general  of  ordnance  and 
military  manufactories,  with  the  rank  of  major  gene- 
ral. On  the  21st  Nov.  following,  it  was,  likewise, 
resolved,  "  that  Silas  Deane  be  recalled  from  the 
court  of  France,'*  upon  which,  John  Adams,  the  late 
president  of  the  United  States,  was  appointed  to  su- 
percede him. 

On  January  i2th  1777,  Congress  rsceived  a  pack- 
.ct  from  their  Commissioners  at  Paris,  which,  when 


214  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

Opened,  instead  of  inclosing  the  expected  letters, 
was  found  to  contain  nothing,  but  blank  paper.  Va- 
rious were  the  conjectures,  occasioned  by  this  extra- 
ordinary affair,  which,  however,  was  rendered  still 
more  suspicious,  by  Mr.  Francey  having  arrived,  at 
the  same  tinne,  with  a  letter  subscribed  by  Mr.  Deane 
onhj,  dated  Paris,  September  10th,  1777,  recom- 
mending him  as  agent  to  M.  Beaumarchais,  who 
had  procured  a  quantity  of  arms  and  ammunition  for 
congress,  and  pressing,  in  the  most  earnest  terms, 
the  execution  of  the  business,  on  which  he  came. 
That  Congress  considered  this  last  circumstance  as 
very  extraordinary,  may  be  seen,  from  the  first  letter 
sent  by  the  committee  for  foreign  affairs  to  their  com- 
missioners, after  his  arrival,  "  We  think  it  strange,*' 
say  they,  ^^  that  the  commissioners  did  not  jointly 
write  by  Mr.  Francey,  considering  the  very  impor- 
tant designs  of  his  coming  over,  viz.  to  settle  the  mode 
of  payment  for  the  past  cargoes,  &c." 

Mr.  Deane  having  returned  to  America,  Congress, 
in  August^  1778,  desired  him  to  give,  from  his  me- 
mory, a  general  account  of  his  whole  transactions  in 
France,  from  the  time  of  his  first  arrival,  ^  well  as  a 
particular  state  of  the  funds  of  CongreS,  and  the 
commercial  transactions  in  Europe,  especially  with 
M.  Beaumarchais.  The  result,  however,  was  far 
from  being  satisfactory  to  Congress,  who  seem  to 
have  entertained  suspicions  that  there  had  been  a, 
misapplication  of  the  public  money:  and  for  this,  they 
appear  to  have  had  good  reason,  as  Mr.  Deane  had  not 
as  yet  accounted  for  his  expenditures ;  and  had  care' 
fully  left  his  papers  and  vouchers  behind  him,  though 
he  had  the  opportunity  of  getting  them  safely  trans* 
ported  to  America,  by  D'Estaing's  fleet.  Mr.  Deane 
now  iBnding  his  situation  peculiarly  unpleasant,  on 
the  30th  November,  addressed  a  letter  to  Congress, 
signifying  his  intentions  of  returning  to  France,  and 
pressing  to  have  his  affairs  brought  to  a  conclusion. 
Congress,  accordingly,  resolved  that  immediate  at- 


DICTIONARY.  2I<5 

tention  should  be  paid  to  his  request.  On  the  4th 
December,  Mr.  Deane  wrote  them  a  letter  of  thanks, 
and  yet  on  the  day  following,  published  in  the  news- 
papers, "  An  address  to  the  free  and  virtuous  citzens 
of  America,"  in  which,  by  stating  that  their  repre- 
sentatives had  shut  their  ears  against  information,  he 
pointed  out  the  necessity  of  appealing  from  them  to 
the  people  at  large,  and  thus  excited  great  jealousy 
and  uneasiness  throughout  the  community  at  large. 

This  publication  or  Mr.  Deane  was  soon  after  an- 
swered by  the  celebrated  Thomas  Payne,  a  writer, 
who,  though  he  has  by  some  late  publications,  ren- 
dered himself  obnoxious  to  those,  v»^ho  believe  in 
Divine  revelation,  was  by  his  various  literary  pro- 
ductions, particularly  those  under  the  signature  of 
Common  Sense,  of  great  advantage  to  the  American 
cause,  during  the  period  of  our  revolutionary  strug- 
gle, and  who  on  this  occasion,  had  great  advantage, 
from  being  secretary  to  the  committee  of  congress  for 
foreign  affairs.  It  would  be  too  tedious,  for  us  to  en- 
ter into  a  detail  of  the  various  important  secrets,  which 
were  brought  to  light  by  Mr.  Payne,  in  the  course 
of  this  literary  contest;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  they 
tended  greatly  to  encrease  the  suspicions  for  which 
Mr,  Deane's  conduct  had  already  given  too  great 
cause. 

From  this  time,  Mr.  Deane  had  no  farther  agency 
in  public  affairs,  and  appears  to  have  passed  a  great 
part  of  his  remaining  days,  in  obscurity,  at  a  distance 
from  his  native  country.  The  last  years  of  his  life 
were  spent  in  England,  where  according  to  some  ac- 
counts, he  died  in  a  miserable  condition  in  poor  lodg- 
ings at  Deal,  and  as  others  say,  on  board  a  ship  in 
the  Downs,  August  23d,   1789. 

We  shall  conclude  this  account  by  observing,  that 
though  there  appears  great  reason  to  suspect  the  pro- 
priety of  Mr.  Deane's  public  conduct,  yet  if  he  was 
dishonest  in  his  pecuniary  transactions,  it  answered 
no  good  purpose  to  himself,  as  it  is  certain,  that  the 


$16  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


close  of  his  life  was  embittered,  by  the  greatest  m 

digence,  ? 

DEMOSTHENES,  the  famous  Athenian  orator, 
was  born  at  Athens  about  370  years  before  Christ 
He  lost  his  father,  when  he  was  only  seven  years  old 
and  was    placed  under    the  conduct  of  guardians, 
who  robbed  him  of  his  substance,  and  neglected  hi 
education.     Demosthenes  repaired  this  loss  by  hi 
love  of  eloquence    and   his  extraordinary   abilitie 
He  became  the  disciple  of  Isaeus  and  Plato,    and 
though  he   was  not  neglectful  of  other    studies,  he 
devoted  his  chief  attention  to  that  of  oratory.     At 
the  age  of  17,  he  gave  an  early  proof  of  his  eloquence 
and  abilities,  in  an  oration,  which  he  delivered  against 
his  guardians,  from  whom  he  obtained  the  retribution 
of  the  greatest  part  of  his  estate.     This  was  the  first 
time  that  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  eloquence, 
which,  at  length,  he  improved  to  such  perfection, 
that  Philip  ofMacedon  said,  "  it  was  of  more  weight 
against  him   than  all  the  fleets  and  armies  of  the 
Athenians,"  and  that  "he  had  no  enemy  but  De- 
mosthenes."    It  is  universally  agreed,  that  no  orator 
ever  spoke  with  more  force,  or  had  the  passions  of 
others  so  much  in  his  power,  as  Demosthenes,  inso- 
much, that  as  Demetrius  Phalereus  and  Eratosthenes 
have  said,   "  he  actually  spoke  like  one  inspired." 
His  abilities  as  an  orator,  raised  him  to  consequence 
at  Athens,  and  he  was  soon  placed  at  the  head  of 
government.     In  this  public  capacity,  he  rouzed  his 
countrymen    from   their   indolence,    and  animated 
them  against  the  encroachments  of  Philip  of  Mace- 
don.     He  was,  however,  much  better  qualified  to 
persuade  others  to  martial  glory,  than  to  gather  lau- 
rels for  himself  in  the  ensanguined  plain  :  for  in  the 
battle  of  Gherronea,  he  betrayed  the  most  dastardly 
cowardice,  and  saved  his  life  by  a  precipitate  flight. 
After  the  death  of  Philip,  he  declared  himself  with 


DICTIONARY.  ^17 

equal  warmth  against  Alexander  his  son  and  succes- 
or ;  and  when  the  Macedonians  demanded  of  the 
Athenians,  their  orators,  Demosthenes  reminded  his 
countrymen  of  the  fable  of  the  sheep,  which  deliver- 
ed their  dogs  to  the  wolves.  By  the  prevalence  of 
party,  however,  he  was  forced  to  retire  from  Athens  : 
and,  in  his  banishment,  which  he  passed  at  Troezeii 
and  /Egina,  he  lived  with  more  effeminacy  than 
true  heroism.  When  Antipater  made  war  against 
Greece,  after  the  death  of  Alexander,  Demosthenes 
was  publicly  recalled  from  his  exile,  and  a  galley  dis- 
patched to  fetch  him  from  JEgm^. :  but  though  his 
return  was  attended  with  much  splendour,  his  popu- 
larity was  only  of  short  continuance.  Antipater  and 
Crateres  were  near  Athens,  and  demanded  that  all 
the  orators  should  be  delivered  up  into  their  hands. 
But  Demosthenes,  who  would  not  be  given  up,  lied  to 
the  island  of  Celeutia  ;  and  when  he  saw,  that  all 
hopes  of  safety  were  vanished,  he  put  an  end  to  his 
days  by  poison,  in  the  S22d,  year  before  Christ. 

There  are  extant,  under  his  name,  61    orations, 
which  have  frequently  been  published.    But,  though 
he  arrived  to  such  perfection  in  this  art,  he   set  out 
under  great  disadvantages ;  for  he  had  an  impedi- 
ment in  his  speech,  which,  for  a  long  time,  would 
not  permit  him  to  pronounce  the  letter  r.     He  had 
a  weak  voice,  a  short  breath,  and  a  yery  uncouth 
and  ungracious  manner  ;  however,  by  dint  of  resolu- 
tion and  infinite  pains  he  at  last  overcame  all  these 
defects.     He  would  clime  up  steep  and  rocky  places, 
to  help  his  wind  and  strengthen  his  voice ;  he  would 
declaim  with  pebbles  in  his  mouth  to  remedy  the  im- 
perfection of  his  speech  ;  he  would  place  a  looking- 
glass    before  him,  to  correct  the  aukwardness  of  his 
gesture;  and  he  learned,  of  the  best  players,  the  pro- 
per graces  of  action  and   pronunciation,  which  he 
thought  of  so   much  consequence,  that  he  made  the 
whole  art  of  oratory,  in  a  manner,   consist  of  them. 
He  often  retired  into  a  subterraneous  cave,  to  devot(j 
Vol.  II.  No.  12.  V:2 


il8^  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL  ,^ 

himseJt  more  closely  to  studious  pursuits ;  and  to 
eradicate  all  curiosity  of  appearing  in  public,  he  shav- 
ed one  half  of  his  head,  so  that  he  could  not  with  de- 
cency go  abroad  till  his  hair  had  grown  again.  In 
this  solitary  confinement  by  the  help  of  a  glimmering 
lamp,  he  composed  the  greatest  part  of  his  orations, 
which  have  been  the  admiration  of  every  age,  though 
his  rivals  inveighed  against  them,  observeing  that  they 
smelled  of  oil.  He  also  accustomed  himself  to  har- 
rangue  at  the  sea  shore,  where  the  agitation  of  the  waves 
formed  to  him  an  idea  of  the  commotions  in  a  popular 
assembly,  and  served  to  prepare  and  fortify  him  against 
them.  From  these  several  kinds  of  hardships,  which 
he  imposed  upon  himself,  it  is  plain  that  he,  was  not 
so  much  born  an  orator,  as  an  instance,  how  far  parts 
and  application  may  go,  towards  forming  a  great  man 
in  any  profession. 

Demosthenes  has  been  deservedly  called  the  prince 
of  oralors.  Indeed  no  orator  had  ever  a  finer  field 
than  Demosthenes  in  his  Olynthiads  and  Philippics, 
which  are  his  capital  orations ;  and  undoubtedly  to 
the  greatness  of  the  subject,  and  to  that  integrity 
and  public  spirit,  which  breathe  in  them,  they  owe  a 
large  portion  of  their  merit.  The  subject  is  to  ex- 
cite the  indignation  of  his  countrymen  against  Phi- 
lip of  Macedon,  the  public  enemy  of  the  liberties  of 
Greece ;  and  to  guard  them  against  the  treacherous 
measures,  by  which  that  crafty  tyrant  endeavoured  t 
lull  them  into  a  neglect  of  their  danger.  To  attai 
this  end,  we  see  him  use  every  proper  means  to  ani 
mate  a  people  distinguished  by  justice,  humanity  and' 
valour;  but,  in  many  instances,  become  corrupt  and 
degenerate.  He  boldly  accuses  them  of  venality^ 
indolence  and  indifference  to  the  public  good,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  he  reminds  them  of  their  tormcr 
glory  and  of  their  present  resources.  His  contempo- 
rary orators,  who  were  bribed  by  Philip,  and  who 
persuaded  the  people  to  peace,  he  openly  reproaches 
as  traitors  to  their  country.     He  not  only  prompts  td 


I 


DICTIONARY,  219 

Vigorous  measures  ;  but  teaches  how  they  are  to  be 
carried  into  execution.     His  orations  are  strongly  ani- 
mated, and  full  of  the  impetuosity  and  ardour  of  pub- 
lic spirit.     His  composition  is  not  distinguished  by 
ornament  and  splendour.     It  is  an  energy  of  thought 
peculiarly  his  own,  which  forms  the  character  and 
raises  him  above  his  species.   He  seems  not  to  attend 
to  words,  but  to  things.     We  forget  the  orator  and 
think  of  the  subject.     He  has  no  parade  and  ostenta- 
"•   n  ;    no  studied   introductions  ;  but  is  like  a  m.an 
of  his  subject,  who  after  preparing  his  audience, 
ntenceor  two,  for  the  reception  of  plain  truths, 
ctly  on  business. 

:   Hs  hini  a  perfect  model,  and  such  as  he 
:  d  to  be.     These  two  great  princes  of 
c;  -'     :'  vc  been  often  compared  together;  but 

'-ii-i  ',ent  hesitates  to  which  to  give  the  prefer- 

ence. IhQ  Archbishop  of  Cambray,  how^evcr, 
sec-i:^,  to  have  stated  their  respective  merits  with  great? 
justice  and  perspicuity  in  his "  Lectures  on  Rhetoric 
and  Poetry."  The  passage,  translated,  is  as  follov/s  : 
"  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare,  that  I  think  Demosthe- 
nes superior  to  Cicero.  I  am  persuaded  no  man  can 
admire  Cicero  more  than  I  do.  He  adorns  whatever 
he  attempts.  He  does  honour  to  language.  He  dis- 
poses words  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself.  His 
style  has  great  variety  of  character.  Whenever  he 
pleases,  he  is  ever  concise  and  vehement;  for  instance, 
against  Cataline,  against  Verres,  against  Anthony  : 
but  ornament  is  too  visible  in  his  writings.  His  art 
is  wonderful,  but  it  is  perceived.  Vv^ien  the  orator  is 
providing  for  the  safety  of  the  Republic,  he  forgets 
not  himself,  nor  permits  others  to  escape  him.  De- 
mosthenes, on  the  other  hand,  seems  to  escape  from 
himself,  and  to  see  nothing  but  his  country.  He  seeks 
not  elegance  of  expression,  but  unsought  for  he  pos- 
sesses it.  He  is  superior  to  admiration,  ile  makes  use 
of  language,  as  a  modest  man  doesof  dress,  only  to 
cover  him.  He  thunders,  he  lightens.  He  is  a  torrent, 


220  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


which  carries  every  thing  before  it.  We  cannot  cri- 
ticise, because  we  are  not  ourselves.  His  subject 
entrances  our  attention,  and  makes  us  forget  his  lan- 
guage. We  lose  him  from  our  sight.  Philip  alone 
occupies  our  minds.  I  am  delighted  with  both  these 
orators  3  but  I  confess, 'that  I  am  less  affected  by  the 
infinite  art  and  magnificent  eloquence  of  Cicero,  than 
by  the  rapid  simplicity  of  Demosthenes.'* 

DERI  I  AM,  (WiLLiA?,^)  an  excellent  English 
philosopher  and  divine,  was  born  at  Stowton,  near 
Worcester  in  1657.  In  1675,  he  was  admitted  into 
Trinity  college,  Oxford,  and  by  the  time  he  took  his 
degree  of  B.  A.  was  greatly  distinguished  for  his  learn- 
ing and  other  valuable  and  eminent  qualifications. 
In  1682,  he  was  presented  to  the  vicarage  of  War- 
grave  in  Berkshire  ;  and  in  1689,  to  the  valuable  rec- 
tory of  UpmJnster  in  Essex,  which  latter,  lying  at  a 
convenient  distance  from  London,  afforded  him  an 
opportunity  of  conversing  and  corresponding,  with 
the  mcst  distinguished  virtuosos  in  Great  Britain.  Ap- 
plying himself  there  with  great  eagerness  to  natural 
and  experimental  philosophy,  he  soon  became  a  dis- 
tinguished member  of  the  royal  society,  whose  philo- 
sophical transactions  contain  a  great  variety  of  curious 
and  valuable  pieces,  the  fruits  of  his  laudable  in- 
dustry. 

lie  published  in  his  younger  years,  "  The  Artificial 
Clock  maker,  or  a  treatise  of  watch  and  clock  work, 
8cc."  which  has  passed  through  many  editions.  In 
1711,  1712,  and  in  1714  he  preached  those  sermons 
at  Boyle's  lectures,  which  he  afterwards  digested  under 
the  well  known  titles  of  *'Physico-Theology,  and  As- 
tro-Theology," and  enriched  with  valuable  notes  and 
copper  plates.  The  last  thinfj^he  published  of  his  own 
composition,  was  "  Christo-Theology ;  or,  a  demon- 
.stration  of  the  divine  authority  of  the  Christian  religion, 
being  the  substance  of  a  sermon  preached  at  Bath, 


DICTIONARY.  221 

November  1729.''  But  besides  his  own,  he  published 
some  pieces  of  Mr.  Ray,  and  gave  new  editions  of 
others,  with  great  additions  from  the  author's  own 
MSS.  To  him,  the  world  is  likewise  indebted  for 
the  publication  of  the  "  Philosophical  Experiments 
and  observations  of  the  kite  eminent  Dr.  Robert 
Hooke,  and  other  eminent  virtuosos  in  his  time,  1726 
8  vo."  He  communicated  also  to  the  Royal  Society- 
several,  pieces,  which  he  received  from  his  Jearned 
correspondents. 

This  great  and  good  man,  having  spent  his  life.  In 
the  most  agreeable  and  improving  study  of  nature, 
and  made  all  his  researches  therein  subservient  to  the 
cause  of  religion  and  virtue,  died  at  length,  in  his  78th, 
year,  April  5th,  1735,  at  Upminster,  where  he  was  bu- 
ried. He  left  behind  him  a  valuable  collection  of 
curiosities  ;  particularly  a  specimen  oi  insects,  and 
of  most  kinds  of  birds  found  in  Great  Britain.  We 
shall  conclude  by  observing,  that  our  author  was  ve- 
ry well  skilled  in  medical  as  well  as  philosophical 
knowledge,  and  was  constantly  a  physician  to  the 
bodies,  as  well  as  souls  of  his  parishioners. 


DESCARTES,  See  Cartes  Reni:   des. 

DE  SOLIS,  (Antonio,)  a  Spanish  cardinal  and 
archbishop  of  Seville,  who,  notwithstanding  the  lux- 
urious tendencies  of  ecclesiastical  elevation*  and  the 
temptation  of  a  prodigious  income,  extended  his  lite, 
to  more  than  one  hundred  and  ten  years,  in  tlie  un- 
interrupted enjoyment  of  most  of  his  faculties,  and  an 
exemplary  exercise  of  episcopal  dignity. 

His  great  age  and  healthy  appearance,  excited  the 
curiosity  of  the  late  king  of  Spain,  who  questioned 
him  concerning  the  regimen  he  pursued,  and  the  gen- 
eral habits  of  his  life.  "  By  recollecting,  when  I  was 
young,  that  I  might  hereafter  be  old,"  replied  the  pre- 


222  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

late,  "  i  find  myself  young,  though  in  fact  very  old. 
My  life  has  been  very  sober,  studious  and  contem- , 
plative,  but  by  no  means  lazy  or  sedentary.  My  diet 
has  been  sparing,  though  delicate  ;  my  liquor  the  best- 
wine  of  Cerez  and  La  Mancha,  of  which  I  exceed 
not  a  pint,  except  in  very  cold  weather,  when  I  allow 
myself  a  third  more  :  I  ride  or  walk  every  day  in  the 
open  nir,  except  in  wet  weather,  when  1  exercise  for 
two  hours  in  a  gallery  or  piazza  of  the  palace.  I  en- 
deavour to  preserve  my  mind  in  a  due  state  of  obedi- 
ence to  the  divine  commands.  I  discharge,  as  faith- 
fully as  I  am  able,  the  office  of  a  christian  bishop,  and 
as  far  as  is  consistent  with  human  frailty,  endeavour 
to  preserve  a  conscience,  void  of  offence,  tawards 
God  and  man,  1  have  arrived  at  my  present  age, 
without  any  considerable  injury  to  my  constitution, 
by  the  m.ercy  of  God;  and,  relying  on  the  intercession 
of  a  blessed  redeemer,  1  am  now,  like  ripe  corn,  rea- 
dy for  the  sickle  of  death."     He  died  in  1774. 

DEVEREUX,  (Robert)  Earl  of  Essex,  memo- 
rable for  having  been  a  great  favourite,  and  an  unhap- 
py victim  to  the  arts  of  his  enemies,  and  his  own  am- 
bition, in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  born  in 
Herefordshire,  England,  in  1561,  Upon  the  death 
ofhis  father,  which  happened,  v^'hcn  he  was  only  ten 
years  of  age,  he  succeeded  to  the  title  of  earl  of  Es- 
sex ;  and  about  two  years  after,  was  sent  by  his  guar- 
dian, lord  Burleigh  to  Trinity  college,  in  Cambridge, 
where  he  finished  the  usual  course  of  academical  edu- 
cation in  1682.  AVhenhehad  scarcely  attained  his 
eighteenth  year,  we  find  him  at  the  court  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  who  inmiediatcly  honoured  him  with  sin- 
gular marks  of  her  favour. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  1585,  he  attended 
the  Earl  of  Licccster  to  Holland,  and  gave  signal 
proofs  ofhis  personal  courage,  during  the  campaign 
of  1586,  particularly  at   the  battle  of  Zutphcn.     On 


DICTIONARY.  223 

his  return  to  England,  in  1587,  be  was  made  master 
of  the  horse,  ii\  the  room  of  lord  Liecester  promoted, 
and  in  1588,  when  the  Queen  assembled  an  army, at 
Tilbury,  for  the  defence  of  the  Kingdom,  against  the 
Spanish  armada,  he  was  raised  to  be  general  of  the 
horse.  From  this  time,  he  was  considered  as  the 
happy  favourite  of  the  Q.ueen,  and  if  there  was  any 
mark  yet  wanting,  to  fix  the  people's  opinions,  in  that 
respect,  it  was  shewn  by  the  Queen's  conferring  on 
him  the  honor  of  the  garter. 

^Ve  need  not  wonder,  that  so  rapid  an  elevation 
should  affect  a  young  man  like  Essex,  who  from 
henceforth  shewed  a  very  high  spirit,  and  often  be- 
haved petulantly  even  to  the  tiueen  herself.  His 
eagerness,  about  this  time,  to  dispute  her  favour  with 
the  earl  of  Devonshire,  cost  him  some  blood,  for 
his  lordship  thinking  himself  affronted  by  Essex,  chal- 
lenged him  to  a  duel,  in  which  he  wounded  him  in 
the  knee.  The  Queen,  so  far  from  being  displeased 
with  it,  is  said  to  have  sworn  a  good  round  oath,  that 
it  was  fit  sombody  should  take  him  down,  otherwise 
there  would  be  no  ruling  hitn.  She,  however,  recon- 
ciled the  rivals,  who,  to  their  honour,  continued  good 
friends,  as  long  as  they  lived. 

The  gallant  Essex,  however,  was  not  so  captivat- 
ed with  his  situation,  as  to  become  insensible  to  the 
allurements  of  military  glory.  In  1589,  Sir  John 
Norris  and  Sir  Francis  Drake,  having  sailed  on  an 
expedition  against  Spain,  our  young  larorite,  without 
the  permission  or  knowledge  of  his  royal  mistress,  fol- 
lowed the  fleet,  which  he  joined  near  Lisbon,  and 
acted  with  great  resolution  in  the  repulse  of  the 
Spanish  garrison  of  that  city.  The  Queen  wrote  him 
a  very  severe  letter  upon  this  occasion  ;  but  she  was 
after  his  return,  soon  appeased  ;  yet  it  was  not  long 
before  he  again  incurred  her  displeasure,  by  a  private 
match  with  the  widow  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  In  1591 
he  went  abroad,  at  the  head  of  some  forces  to  assist 
Henry  of^ France  s  but  this  expedition  was  attended 


224  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


[necr  ' 


with  little  or  no  success.     In   1 596,  he  was  jol 
with  the  lord  high  admiral,  Howard,  in  the  command 
of  an  expedition  against  Cadiz,   which  terminated  in 
the  capture  and  pillage  of  that  strongly  fortified  port. 

Upon  his  return  to  England,  in  the  year,  1597, 
he  was  made  carl  marshal  of  England.  He  met,  how- 
ever, in  this  and  the  succeeding  years,  with  varioui* 
causes  of  chagrin,  partly  from  the  loftiness  of  his  own : 
temper,  but  chiefly  from  the  artifice  of  those,  who- 
envied  his  great  credit  with  the  queen,  and  were  de- 
sirous of  reducing  his  power  within  bounds.  But 
whatever  disadvantages  he  might  labour  under  from 
intrigues  at  court,  the  queen  had  commonly  recourse 
to  his  assistance,  in  all  difficulties  and  dangers,  and 
placed  him  at  the  head  of  her  fleets  and  armies,  in 
preference  to  any  other  person. 

About  this  time,  he  met  with  a  severe  loss,  in  the 
death  of  his  friend  and  guardian,  the  great  lord 
Burleigh,  who,  having  long  entertained  a  great  ten- 
derness for  his  person,  had,  upon  many  occasions, 
stood  between  him  and  harm  :  but  this  nobleman  be- 
ing now  gone,  his  enemies  acted  without  any  restraint, 
crossed  whatever  he  proposed,  impeded  the  rise  of 
every  man  he  loved,  and  treated  all  his  projects  with 
an  air  of  contempt.  He  succeeded  lord  Burleigh,  as 
chancellor  of  the  university  of  Cambridge,  which  is 
reckoned  one  of  the  last  instances  of  his  felicity, 
since  he  was  now  advanced  too  high  to  be  permitted 
to  sit  at  ease. 

The  first  great  shock  he  received,  in  regard  to  the 
Ciueen's  favcur,  arose  from  a  warm  dispute  between 
her  majesty  and  himself,  about  the  choice  of  some 
fir  person  to  superintend  the  affairs  of  Ireland,  upon 
which  occasion,  when  the  Queen  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  acquiesce  in  his  opinion,  he  so  far  forgot 
himself,  as  to  turn  his  back  upon  her  in  a  contemptu- 
ous manner.  Provoked  at  this  insolence,  the  Queen 
gave  him  a  box  on  the  car,  and  bid  him  go  and  be 
hanged.     He  immediately  clapped  his  hand  on  his 


dictionary;  225 

^word,  and  the  lord  admiral,  who  was  then  present, 
stepping  in  betweeen  them,  he  swore,  that  he  neither 
could,  nor  would  put  up  with  an  affront  of  that  nature, 
and,  in  a  great  passion  immediately  withdrew  from 
court.  Where  was  his  gallantry  on  this  occasion  ? 
could  the  stroke  of  an  angry  woman  have  tinged  the 
honour  of  a  valiant  soldier  ?  This  violent  storm,  how- 
ever, soon  subsided,  and  he  was  again  restored  in  ap- 
pearance, to  the  queen's  favour  ;  yet  there  is  good 
reason  to  doubt,  whether  he  ever  recovered  it  in 
reality,  and  his  friends,  have  been  apt  to  date  his  ruin 
from  this  unlucky  accident. 

The  total  reduction  of  Ireland  being  soon  after 
brought  upon  the  carpet,  the  earl  was  pitched  upon 
as  the  only  person  from  whom  it  could  be  expected. 
This  was  an  artful  contrivance  of  his  enemies,  who 
hoped,  by  this  measure,  to  ruin  him ;  nor  were  they 
disappointed  in  their  expectations.  He  declined  this 
fatal  preferment  as  long  as  he  could,  but  perceiving, 
that  he  should  have  no  quiet  at  home,  he  accepted  it 
and  his  commission  as  lord  lieutenant,  was  passed  in 
March  1598.  His  enemies  now  began  to  insinuate- 
that  he  had  sought  this  command  for  the  sake  of 
greater  things,  which  he  was  then  meditating  ;  but 
there  is  a  letter  of  his  to  the  Queen,  preserved  in  the 
Harleian  collection,  which  shews,  that  he  was  so  far 
from  entering  upon  it  with  alacrity,  that  he  looked 
«pon  it  rather  as  a  banishment,  and  a  place  assigned 
him  as  a  retreat  from  his  sovereign's  displeasure,  than 
G  potent  government  bestowed  on  him  by  her  favour. 

The  Earl  met  with  nothing  in  Ireland,  but  ill  suc- 
cess, and  crosses,  in  the  midst  of  which,  an  army  was 
suddenly  raised  in  England,  under  the  command  of  the 
Earl  of  Nottingham,  nobody  well  knowing  why,  but 
in  reality  from  the  suggestions  of  the  Karl's  enemies  to 
the  Queen,  that  he  rather  meditated  aninvasion  of  his 
native  country,  tlxan  the  reduction  ot  the  Irish.  This 
and  other  circumstances  made  him  resolve  to  quit 
bis  post,  and  come  over  to -England,  which  he  accov- 

Vol.  11.  No.  12,  F2 


226^  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

dingly  did  without  leave,  and  presented  himself  be* 
fore  the  Queen,  who  received  him  with  a  mixture  of 
tenderness  and  severity ;  but  she,  soon  after,  thought 
fit  to  deprive  him  of  all  his  employments,  except  that 
of  master  of  the  horse,  and  also  ordered  him  into  the 
custody  of  the  lord  keeper,  with  whom  he  continued 
six  months.     No  sooner  had  he  regained  his  liberty, 
than  he  was  guilty  of  many  extravagances,  to  which 
he  was  instigated  by  knaves  and  fools,  but  perhaps: 
more  powerfully,  by  his  own  passions.     On  the  7th 
February  1601,  he  w^as  summoned  to  attend  before 
the  council,  but  refused,  and  when  the  Queen  after- 
wards sent  some  of  the  first  lords  of  her  council,  to 
know  his    grievances,   he  even   had  the  audacity  to 
confine  them  :  after  which  he  marched  with  his  friends 
into  the  city,  in  expectation  that  the  people  would 
rise  in  his  favour,  but  in  that  he  was  disappointed^. 
He  then  gave  out,  that  his  enemies  sought  his  life,  in 
consequence  of  which  he  kept  a  watch  in  Essex  house" 
all  night,  and  summoned  his  friends  for  his  defence 
the  next  morning.      Several   disputes    ensued  and 
some  blood  was  spilt.  The  earl,  however,  having,  at 
last,  surrendered,  was  committed  to  the  tower,  tried 
by  his  peers  and  found  guilty  of  high  treason,  for 
which  he  was  beheaded,  February  25th  1601,  being- 
then  in  his  34th  year.     Thus  did   this  brave  man, 
this  favourite  of  his  Queen,  this  idol  of  the  people, 
fall  a  sacrifice  to  his  own  precipitance  and  want  of 
discretion.     He  was  a  polite  scholar  and  a  generous 
friend  to  literature. 

From  the  united  testimony  of  the  most  impartial 
historians  of  that  period,  it  is  evident,  that  Essex  wj 
really  beloved  by  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  hence,  it  at  first 
sight,  appears  wonderful,  that  she  should  have  con- 
sented to  his  execution.  That  princess,  however,  who 
was  then  in  her  68th  year,  had  still  a  very  high  opinion 
of  her  beauty,  and  personal  attractions,  and  probably 
expected  more  entire  devotion,  than  the  earl's  passion 
for  variety  would  suffer  him  to  pay,  and  he  had  toO' 


DICTIONARY.  227 

much  honesty  hi  his  nature  to  allow  him  to  feign  a 
passion,  which  he  did  not  feel.  She  had,  likewise, 
given  credit  to  many  of  his  ambitious  projects,  which 
were  incompatible  with  her  own  safety ;  and  was  in- 
formed that  he  had  once  inadvertently  said,  that  she 
grew  old  and  cankered y  and  that  her  mind  was  be- 
come as  crooked,  as  her  carcase.  If  this  be  true,  we 
believe,  there  are  many  women  who  would  sacrifice 
such  a  lover  to  their  resentment. 

It  is  said,  however,  that  her  majesty  was  for  a  long 
time  irresolute  with  respect  to  his  execution;  but  con- 
sidering his  obstinacy  in  refusing  to  ask  her  pardon 
she  was  at  last  prevailed  on  to  sign  the  fatal  order. 
It  is  reported,  that  the  Queen  had,  at  the  time,  when 
she  was  most  enamoured  with  Essex,  presented  him 
with  a  ring,  ordering  him  to  keep  it,  and  that  whatever 
crime  he  should  commit,  she  would  pardon  him,  when 
he  should  return  that  pledge.  The  earl,  upon  his 
condemnation,  gave  it  to  his  relation,  the  lady  of  ad- 
miral Howard,  desiring  her  to  put  it  in  the  Queen's 
own  hands  ;  but  she,  having  imprudently  communi- 
cated the  matter  to  her  husband,  who  was  one 
of  the  EarFs  greatest  enemies,  was  not  permitted  to 
acquit  herself  of  the  commission.  The  Queen  being 
informed  of  the  circumstance  by  the  lady  on  her 
death  bed,  v/as,  from  that  moment,  rendered  so 
completely  miserable,  that  it  is  generally  supposed  to 
have  greatly  accelerated  her  death,  which  happened 
soon  after. 

DE  WITT,  (John),  the  famous  Dutch  pensionary 
was  bcrn,  in  1625,  at  Dort  where  he  prosecuted  his 
studies  so  diligently,  that,  at  the  age  of  23,  he  pub- 
lished in  Latin,  his,  "  Elem.ents  of  curved  lines,  "one 
of  the  deepest  books  in  mathematics,  which  had  at 
that  time  appeared.  In  the  year  1650,  he  became  pen- 
sionary of  Dort,  and  distinguished  himself  very  early 
in  the  management  of  the  public  affairs.    11^  warmly 


'228  HEW  BIOGRAPHICAL  _ 

opposed  the  war  between  the  English  and  Datch* 
representing  in  strong  colours,  the  bad  consequences 
of  which  it  would  be  productive  to  the  republic;  and, 
when  the  events  justified  his  predictions,  he  gained 
so  great  credit,  that  he  was  unanimously  chosen  pen- 
sionary of  Holland. 

The  continuance  of  the  war  was  so  visibly  destruc- 
tive of  the  commerce  and  interest  of  the  republic, 
that  the  pensionary,  and  his  friends,  used  all  their  en- 
deavours to  set  on  foot  a  negociation.  Ambassadors 
were  accordingly  dispatched  to  the  commonwealth 
of  England,  where  Cromwell  had  a  short  time  be- 
fore, turned  out  the  old,  and  set  up  a  new  parliament. 
To  this  assembly,  the  Dutch  ministers  were  directed 
to  apply  y  but  as  they  found  the  members  of  that  bo- 
dy to  be  composed  of  a  set  of  fanatics,  who,  instead 
of  entering  on  the  discussion  of  political  topics,  only 
entertained  them  with  long  prayers,  they  found  it  im- 
practicable to  effect  their  purpose,  till  Cromwell  had 
assumed  the  supreme  power,  under  the  title  of  the  pro- 
tector. With  him,  they  soon  concluded  a  peace,  the 
most  remarkable  article  of  which  Vvas,  the  adding  of  a 
secret  article  for  the  exclusion  of  the  house  of  Orange, 
to  which  the  states  afterwards  consented  by  a  solemn 
act.  But  the  article  of  exclusion  roused  a  great 
clamour  in  Holland,  which  being  chiefly  attributed 
to  the  pensionary,  raised  him  a  great  many  enemies, 
and  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  act  with  the  ut- 
most caution,  in  order,  that  he  might  be  able  to  carry 
his  favorite  points.  The  clergy  too  began  to  inter- 
meddle, and  instead  of  devoting  their  labours  to  the 
great  duties  of  tlieir  function,  viz.  the  instruction  of 
their  hearers  in  pure  and  undefiled  religion,  were  only 
assiduous  in  recommending  the  cause  of  a  political 
party,  which  had  for  its  object  tlie  debasement  of  the- 
people,  and  the  aggrandizement  of  the  house  of  Or- 
ange. The  firmness  of  De  V/itt,  however,  at  last, 
enabled  him  to  overcome  all  prejudices,  so  that  when 
the  time  of  his  high  office  was  expired,  he  \vas  unani- 


DICTIONARY.  220 

mously  continued  in  it,  by  a  resolution  of  the  States, 
Sept,  15th  1663. 

War  having  become  necessary  with  England,  soon 
after  the  restoration  of  King  Charles  II.  he  was  ap- 
pointed one  of  the  commissioners  for  the  direction  of 
the  navy,  and  made  such  vigorous  dispositions,  that, 
though  he  had  no  experience  in  naval  affairs,  he  had 
a  fleet  completely  equipped  for  sea,  at  a  much  earlier 
period,  than  even  the  admirals  themselves  had  ima- 
gined to  be  possible.  When  it  was  thought  expedi- 
ent, after  the  death  and  defeat  of  Admiral  Opdam, 
that  some  of  their  own  deputies  should  command  the 
fleet,  he  was  one  of  the  three,  who  were  put  in  com- 
mission. When  he  came  on  board,  the  fleet  was  shut 
up  in  the  Tcxel,  and  in  order  to  secure  a  vast  number 
of  valuable  merchant  vessels,  then  on  the  coast,  it  was 
necessary  for  it  to  put  to  sea,  which,  as  the  wind 
then  stood,  all  the  officers  and  sailors  declared  to  be 
impracticable.  The  pensionary  alone  was  of  a  differ- 
ent opinion,  and  at  last  convinced  his  opponents  of 
their  mistake,  by  conveying  one  of  their  greatest  ships 
through  the  Spaniards  Gat  with  the  wind  at  S.  S.  W. 
August  16th,  1665,  when  the  greatest  part  of  the  fleet 
followed  him  without  the  least  accident,  and  the  pas- 
sage has  since  been  called  Witt's  Diep.  They  met 
with  a  terrible  storm  on  the  coast  of  Norwav,  which 
lasted  some  days,  during  which  time  De  Witt  was 
constantly  on  deck,  never  changed  his  clothes,  nor  al- 
lowed himself  the  smallest  indulgence,  of  which  the 
common  men  did  not  participate.  He  wrote  a  plain 
and  accurate  relation  of  all  which  happened,  during 
the  expedition,  and,  at  his  return,  verified  every  arti- 
cle of  this  account  so  fully  to  the  states,  that  they 
gave  him  solemn  thanks  for  his  services  ;  and  offered 
him  a  considerable  present,  which,  however,  he  de- 
clined to  accept. 

When  the  famous  battle,  in  July  1 666,  was  fought 
between  the  English  and  the  Dutch,  for  three  days 
together,  hz  v/as  sent  bv  the  States  to  take  a  full  ac- 


B30  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

count  of  the  affair  ;  and  he  drew  up  one  from  th$ 
best  authorities  he  could  obtain,  which  is  justly  aci 
counted  a  master  piece  of  the  kind,  and  a  proof  ol 
his  being  as  capable  of  recording  great  actions  as  at< 
chieving  them.  In  1667,  finding  a  favorable  con-| 
juncture  for  executing  the  great  design  of  the  warm 
republicans,  he  established  the  perpetual  edict  for  a- 
bolishing  the  office  of  Stadtholder,  and  for  fixing  the 
liberty  of  Holland,  as  it  was  hoped,  on  a  strong 
basis.  The  expectations  of  the  patriots  were,  however, 
sadly  disappointed,  for,  m  a  few  years  thereafter, 
the  people  becoming  disaffected,  began  to  evince 
their  discontent  in  tijmults  and  seditions,  which  did 
not  subside  till  the  office  of  stadtholder  was  restored. 
The  pensionary  begged  disjnission  from  his  post, 
which  was  granted  with  thanks  for  his  faithful  servi- 
ces. He  did  not  affect  business,  when  he  saw  it  was 
no  longer  in  his  power  to  benefit  the  public  ;  and, 
he  deplored  in  secret  the  misfortunes  of  his  country, 
which,  from  the  highest  prosperity,  fell,  as  it  were, 
all  at  once,  to  the  very  brink  of  ruin.  At  last,  the 
invasion  of  the  French,  and  the  internal  divisions 
amongst  the  Hollanders  themselves  spread  terror  and 
contusion  far  and  wide,  which  the  Orange  party 
heightened  to  ruin  the  De  Witts,  whom  they  repre- 
sented as  plunderers  of  the  state,  and  authors  of  all 
the  calamities  they  then  laboured  under.  Cornelius  the 
pensionary's  brother  was  imprisoned  and  condemned 
to  exile  ;  and  a  report  being  raised,  that  he  would  be 
rescued,  the  mob  arrived  and  surrounded  the  place, 
where  it  unfortunately  happened  the  pensionary  was 
along  with  his  brother.  They  broke  open  the  doors,  in- 
sisted on  their  walking  down  and  after  having  bar- 
barously murdered  them,  carried  their  dead  bodies 
to  the  gallows,  where  they  strung  the  pensionary  a 
foot  higher  than  his  brother  and  afterwards  cut  and 
mangled  their  fiesh  in  the  most  savage  manner. 

Thus  fell  this  zealous  patron  of  the  glory  and  liber- 
ty of  his  native  country,  in  his  47  th  year  s  the  greatest 


DICTIONARY.  231 

genius  of  his  time,  and  the  atlas  of  the  common 
wealth.  His  office,  for  the  first  ten  years,  brought  him 
only  1382  dollars,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life  not 
above  3000  dollars  per  annum)  and  notwithstanding 
the  smallness  of  his  income,  when  compared  with  the 
importance  of  his  services,  he  refused  a  gift  of  44,400 
dollars  from  the  states,  because  he  thought  it  a  bad 
precedent  in  the  government. 

Besides  the  works  already  mentioned,  he  likev/ise 
published  a  book  containing  those  maxims  of  govern- 
ment, upon  which  he  acted.  It  shews  the  true  and 
genuine  principles  ofpolicy,  on  which  alone  it  is  pos- 
sible to  erect  an  administration,  profitable  at  home, 
and  which  must  command  respect  abroad.  On  the 
one  hand,  are  pointed  out  the  mischiefs  of  tyranny, 
arbitrary  power,  authority  derived  from  factions, 
monopolies  and  every  other  species  of  corruption  ;  on 
the  other  hand,  is  explained,  the  true  method  of  ac- 
quiring and  securing  power,  riches,  and  peace,  of 
managing  and  extending  trade,  of  supporting  liberty 
without  running  into  licentiousness,  and  of  adminis- 
tering the  commonwealth  in  such  a  manner,  as  that 
the  possessors  of  power  shall  not  be  either  envied  or 
feared.  A  translation  of  this  valuable  book  from  the 
original  Dutch,  entitled  "  The  true  interest  and  poli- 
tical maxims  of  the  Republic  of  Holland,"  has  been 
printed  in  London,  to  the  last  edition  of  which,  in 
1744,  are  prefixed  historical  memoirs  of  the  illustrious 
brothers,  Cornelius  and  John  De  Witt,  by  the  late 
Dr.  John  Campbell. 

DIGBY,  (Sir,  Edward)  an  English  gentleman, 
memorable  for  the  share  he  had  in  the  gunpowder- 
plot  and  his  suffering  on  that  account,  ivas  born  in 
the  year  1581,  and  though  he  was  not  a  principal  ac- 
tor in  this  dreadful  affair,  or  indeed  an  actor  at  all, 
yet  he  offered  6660  dollars  tow^ards  defraying  the  ex- 
penccs  of  it,  entertained  Guy  Fawkes,  who  was  to 
kave  executed  it,  ia  his  house,  and  was  taken  in  open 


"25(3  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


^ 

^^■M 


rebellion  with  other  catholics,  after  the  plot  vx^as  de* 
tected  and  had  miscarried.  When  sentence  of  death 
was  passed  against  them,  he  seemed  to  be  very  much 
affected,  for  making  a  low  bow  to  those  on  the  bench 
he  said,  "  if  I  could  hear  any  of  your  lordships  say 
you  forgave  me,  I  should  go  the  more  cheerfully  to 
the  gallows."  To  this  all  the  lords  ansv^'ered  **  God 
forgive  you,  and  we  do."  He  was  with  other  con- 
spirators, on  the  30th  of  January,  1606,  hanged,  and 
quartered,  at  the  west  end  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Lon- 
don. In  a  paper  written  by  himself  and  found  after 
his  death,  is  the  following  paragraph.  "  Now  for  my 
intention,  let  me  tell  you,  that  if  I  had  thought  there 
had  been  the  least  sin  in  the  plot,  I  would  not  hav» 
been  of  it  for  all  the  world  ;  and  no  other  cause  drew 
me  to  hazard  my  fortune  and  life,  but  zeal  to  God's 
religion''  Here  the  reader  has  ample  proof  of  that  in- 
fatuation, which  men  of  real  abilities  and  virtue  are 
and  always  will  be  subject  to,  when  deserting  the 
light  of  their  own  reason,  they  suffer  themselves  to  be 
led  by  blind  or  slavish  guides  ;  and  of  that  wretched 
zeal,  which  under  the  notion  of  serving  God,  pushes 
men  so  infatuated  to  the  most  horrid  acts  of  inhu- 
manity and  cruelty,  in  the  destruction  of  his  crea- 
tures.    See  Fawkes. 


DODD,  (Dr.  William)  an  ingenious  divine  of 
unfortunate  memory,  was  born,  in  1729,  at  Bourne 
in  Lincolnshire,  of  which  place  his  father  was  vicar 
After  being  instructed  in  classical  learning  at  a  privat 
school,  he  was  in  1745,  sent  to  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  gave  early  proofs  of  parts  and  learn- 
ing and  so  early  as  in  1747,  began  to  publish  little  pieces 
of  poetry.  He  continued  to  make  frequent  publica- 
tions in  this  light  way,  in  which,  how^ever,  there 
were  always  marks  of  sprightliness  and  ingenuity. 
In  1752,  he  published  his  select'wn  of"  The  Beauties 
of  Shakespeare,"  in  2  vols.  12  mo.  which,  in  1755.. 


i 


DICTIONARY.  233 

•was followed  by  "The  Hymns  of  Callimachus, trans- 
Jated  from  the  Greek  into  English  verse,  &;c."  This 
work  was  dedicated  to  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  by 
the  recommendation  of  Dr.  Keene,  bishop  of  Chester, 
who  having  conceived  a  good  opinion  of  Mr.  Dodd, 
at  the  universky,  was  desirous  of  bringing  him  for- 
ward into  the  world. 

In  1753,  he  received  holy  orders,  and  being  pos- 
sessed of  a  pleasing  person,  respectable  manners,  and 
a  large  share  of  pulpit  eloquence,  he  soon  became  a 
very  popular  and  celebrated  preacher.  He  obtained 
several  lectureships,  ^nd  greatly  advanced  his  theo- 
logical character,  by  an  almost  uninterrupted  publi- 
cation of  sermons  and  tracts  of  piety.  He  was,  also, 
very  zealous  in  promoting  and  assisting  at  charitable 
institutions  ;  and  in  particular  distinguished  himself 
greatly  by  his  exertions  in  the  establishment  of  the 
Magdalene  hospital,  which  was  opened,  in  August, 
1758,  with  a  view  to  afford  an  asylum  for  these  unfor- 
tunate females,  who,  having  been  early  seduced  from 
the  paths  of  innocence,  are  frequently  desirous  of 
relinquishing  their  vicious  courses,  without  being  pos- 
sessed of  the  means  of  effecting  their  purpose.  To 
this  charity,  of  which  he  may  be  considered  as  the 
principal  founder,  he  became  lecturer  :  for  which  the 
sum  of  Z 100  Sterling  (444  dollars)  annually  was  added 
to  his  income. 

But  notwithstanding  his  attention  to  spiritual  con- 
concerns,  he  was,  by  no  means,negligent  in  promoting 
his  temporal  interest,  for  besides  writing  constantly  in 
the  "  Public  Ledger,"  and  other  periodical  papers,  he 
superintended  and  contributed  largely  to  the  "  Chris- 
tian Magazine,"  for  both  of  which,  he  received  a  ve- 
ry liberal  compensation.  In  1759,  he  published  in  12 
mo.  *'  Bishop  Hall's  Meditations,"  with  a  dedication 
to  Miss  Talbot,  who  lived  in  the  family  of  Archbish- 
bishop  Seeker;  but  this  was,  some  how  or  other,  so 
worded,  as  unfortunately  to  miss  his  aim  ;  for  it  gave 
such  offence  to  the  archbishop,  that  after  a  warm 
Vol.  II.  No.  12.  G2 


234  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


epistolary  expostulation,  his  grace  insisted  on  the  sheet 
being  cancelled  in  all  the  remaining  copies. 

His  patron.  Dr.  Squire,  who  in  i760,  was  made  - 
bishop  of  St.  David's,  had  published,  the  year  before, 
a  work,  entitled,  "  Indifference  for  Religion  inexcu- 
sable," on  the  appearance  of  which,  Dodd  wrote  a 
sonnet,  and  addressed  it  to  the  author,  who  was 
so  well  pleased,  with  this  mark  of  his  attention,  that, 
in  176],  he  made  him  his  chaplain,  and  in  1763  pro- 
cared  for  him  a  prebend  of  Brecon.  He  puffed  and 
flattered  this  bishop,  who  was  of  a  humour  to  like  it, 
in  the  *'  Public  Ledger,"  and  he  is  also  supposed  to 
have  defended  the  measures  of  administration,  in 
some  political  pieces.  The  truth  is,  Dodd's  finances, 
by  no  means,  answered  his  extravagant  manner  of 
living,  and  this  obliged  him  to  have  recourse  to  such 
methods  of  augmenting  them.  Happy,  if  he  had 
never  occurred  to  worse  expedients  ! 

Still,  however,  he  preserved  theological  appearan'- 
ces  ;  and  he  now  meditated  a  design  of  publishing  a 
large  commentary  on  the  bible,  which  he  began  to 
publish  in  w^eekly  numbers,  and  continued  without 
interruption,  till  it  was  completed  in  3  vols,  folio. 
In  1766,  he  took  his  degree  of  L.L.D.  at  Cambridge, 
having  been  made  one  of  the  king's  chaplains,  some 
time  before.  His  next  publication  was  a  volumn  of 
his  poems,  in  8  vo.  In  1769,  he  published  a  trans- 
lation from  the  French  of  "Sermons  preached  before 
Louis  XV.  during  his  minority,  by  Massillon  bishop 
ot  Clermont."  They  were  called  "  Sermons  on  the 
duties  of  the  great,"  and  inscribed  to  the  prince  of 
Wales.  In  1771,  he  published,  "  Sermons  to  young 
men,"  3  vols.  12  mo.  These  he  dedicated  to  his  pupils 
Charles  Ernst  and  Philip  Stanhope,  the  last  of  w^hom, 
upon  the  death  of  his  father,  became  earl  of  Chesterfield, 

In  1772,  he  was  presented  to  the  living  of 
HocklifFe,  in  Buckinghamshire  -,  but  what  could 
such  preferments  as  this  avail  ?  The  extravagance 
of  the  times,  the  pride  of  the  eye,  and  the  luxury  of 


DICTIONARY.  235 

Jife  had  entirely  got  ascendancy  over  him,  and  he 
became  greatly  embarrassed  and  sunk  in  debts.  To 
relieve  himself,  he  was  tempted  to  a  step,  which  ru- 
ined him  forever  with  the  public;  and  this  was  to 
procure,  by  unfair  means,  the  rectory  of  St.  George's 
Hanover  square.  On  the  preferment  of  Dr  Moss  to 
the  bishoprick  of  Bath,  and  Wells,  in  1774,  that  rec- 
tory fell  to  the  disposal  of  the  crown,  upon  which 
Dodd  caused  an  anonymous  letter  to  be  sent  to 
I^dy  Apsley,  at  that  time  wife  of  the  lord  chancellor, 
offering  the  sum  of  L3qOO(  13,320  dollars,)  if,  by  her 
means,  he  could  be  presented  to  the  living.  Alas  i 
he  was  unfortunate  in  his  woman  ;  the  letter  was  im- 
mediately committed  to  the  chancellor,  and  being 
traced  to  Dodd, .  was  laid  before  the  king,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  he  was  immediately  struck  out  of  the 
list  of  royal  chaplains ;  he  v^as  abused  and  ridiculed 
in  the  papers  of  the  day  ;  and  to  crown  tlie  whole, 
Foote  introduced  him  and  his  wife  into  his  comedy 
of  the  "  Cozeners,"  and  the  poor  divine  became,  eve- 
ry where ,  completely  ridiculous.  Yet,  after  this 
violation  of  sacerdotal  propriety,  his  circumstances 
might  have  still  been  retrieved  ;  but  a  taste  for  expen- 
sive pleasures,  to  which  he  was  not  entitled  by  biith 
or  income,  and  a  fondness  for  inconsistent  splendour, 
were  still  predominant  in  his  heart.  He  endeavour- 
ed, however,  to  improve  his  income,  by  becoming  the 
editor  cfa  News-Paper,  taking  private  pupils,  and 
scribbling  novels  ;  one  of  which,  in  particular,  viz. 
"The  Sisters,"  exhibits  scenes  culpably  luscious, 
which  could  not  have  been  sketched  but  by  an  eye 
witness,  and  highly  indecorous  for  a  clergyman  to  de- 
scribe. About  this  time,  he  is  said  to  have  attempt- 
ed  a  disengagement  from  his  debts,  by  a  commission 
of  bankruptcy,  in  which,  however  he  failed. 

But  the  whirlpool  of  dissipation  drew  him  stronger 
and  stronger  into  its  vortex.  lie  had  been  prevailed 
on,  in  the  summer  of  1776,  to  make  an  excursion  to 
Paris,  with  a  design  to  engage  engravers  for  a  work 


236  HEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


he  was  preparing  for  the  press ;  but  as  if  he  had  a< 
mind  to  wanton  in  folly,  he  was  recognized,  at  the 
races,  on  the  Plains  de  Sablons,  tricked  out  in  all  the 
foppery  of  French  attire,  and  driving  a  fille  de  joy 
in  a  phaeton.  In  consequence  of  this  and  his  other 
imprudences,  his  pecuniary  difficulties  greatly  en- 
creased.  He  returned  in  the  beginning  of  winter,  and 
proceeded  to  exercise  his  functions  as  usual ;  particu- 
larly at  the  Magdalene  Hospital,  where  his  last  ser- 
mon was  preached,.  February  2d  1777;  and  two 
days  after,  he  was  tempted,  io  forge  the  name  of  his 
patron  Lord  Chesterfield,  to  a  security  for  the  sum  of 
18648  dollars;  detection  however,  instantly  following,, 
he  was  committed  to  prison,  tried  at  the  Old-Bailey,  , 
February  24th,  found  guilty,  on  the  evidence  of  his 
former  pupil,  to  whom,  however,  it  ought  not  to  be 
omitted,  that  he  had  refunded  the  money ;  and,  af- 
ter intercessions,  which  for  number  and  respectability,, 
have  no  example,  suffered  an  ignominious  death  at 
Tyburn,  June  27th  1777.  It  was,  in  vain,  suggested, 
that  rovalclemencv,  which  had  been  extended,  in  case 
of  murder  to  the  Kennedies,  and  other  individuals, 
might  have  been  shewn  to  an  unhappy  man,  who, 
in  his  public  capacity,  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
had  saved  and  was  lamented  by  thousands :  but  his 
station  was  only  considered  as  a  stronger  reason  for 
enforcing  the  execution  of  the  law,  which,  in  Great- 
Britain,  seems  to  be  imprinted  in  letters  of  blood 
thai  he,  zvho  is  detected  in  forgery  y  shall  never  escape 
death.  Indeed,  though,  during  the  present  reign, 
many  instances  could  be  adduced  of  the  royal  cle- 
mency having  been  extended  to  those  found  guilty  of 
murder,  yet,  there  are  so  very  few  cases,  in  which 
mercy  has  been  granted  to  those  convicted  of  forgery, 
that  it  would  appear,  the  latter  is  there  considered  as 
a  crime  of  a  deeper  hue  than  the  former;  but  with 
how  great  propriety,  the  discerning  reader  must  de- 
termine. 
The  following  were  some  of  the  last  words,  of  Dr. 


DICTIONARY.  237 

Dodd.  "I  suffer  death  for  a  crime  of  which  I  con- 
fess myself  guilty,  with  a  repentance  which  I  trust 
he  to  whom  all  hearts  are  known,  will  not  despise. 
The  little  good,  that  remains  in  my  power,  is  to  warn 
others.  It  is  with  shame  and  sorrow  I  declare,  that  I 
have  sinned  against  conviction,  for  I  always  considered 
the  christian  religion  as  a  revelation  from  God  ;  but 
though  I  acknowledged  the  truths,  I  forgot  the  prac- 
tice it  recommended  and  was  led  astray  by  vanity  and 
voluptuousness.  /  attended  not  to  frugality  ^  I  despi- 
sed that  most  necessary  of  "cir lues,  in  a  master  of  a 
family,  minute  (economy,  and  was  plunged  by  dissi- 
pation into  expences,  which  produced  distress  and 
ended  in  fraud.  I  intreat  all,  who  are  present  to 
join  with  me  in  my  last  prayer,  that  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ,  my  sins  may  be  forgiven,  and  that  my 
soul  may  be  received  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

His  writings  boast  of  a  great  variety,  consisting 
of  55  articles,  chiefly  upon  subjects  of  religion  and  pie- 
ty, and  by  no  means,  without  merit  in  their  way. 
But  certainly  the  most  curious,  are  his  "  Thoughts 
in  Prison"  in  five  parts,  viz.  ''  The  Imprisonment,  the 
Retrospect,  the  Trial,  Public  Punishment,  Futuri- 
ty ;  "  to  which  are  added  his  "  Speech  in  Court  be> 
fore  sentence  was  pronounced  on  him,"  his  "  Last 
Prayer,"  written  the  night  before  his  death,"  "  The 
Convict's  address  to  his  unhappy  Brethren,"  and  sev- 
eral miscellaneous  pieces. 

This  ill-fated  man  was  married  so  early  as  April 
1751,  even  before  he  was  in  orders,  or  had  any  cer- 
tain means  of  supporting  himself,  and  his  vvite,  though 
largely 'endowed  with  personal  attractions,  was  said 
to  be  deficient  in  those  of  birth  and  fortune. 

DODDRIDGE,  (Dr.  Philip)  an  eminent  dis- 
senting  clergyman,  was  the  son  of  Daniel  Doddridge, 
an  oilman,  in  London,  where  he  was  born,  June  iUy, 
1702.     He  was  brought  up  in  the  early  knowledge 


2SS  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

of  religion,  b)'  his  pious  parents,  and  initiated  in  the 
elements    of  the  learned    languages,  by  the    Rev. 
Mr.  Stott,    a  dissenting  clergyman,  who  taught  a 
private  school  in  London.     In  1712,  he  was  remov-* 
ed  to  Kingston,  upon  Thames  ;  and,  about  the  timei 
of  his  father's  death,  whi^h  happened  in  i7 1 5,  remov- 1 
ed  again  to  a  private  school  at  St.  Albans.     Here,* 
he  happily  cammenced  an  acquaintanvfe   with  Dr. 
Samuel  Clarke,  minister  of  the  dissenting  congrega- 
tion there,  who  became  not  only  the  instructor  of  his 
youth  in  the  principles  of  religion,  but  his  guardian 
when  a  helpless  orphan,  and  a  generous  and  faithful 
friend,  in  all  his  advancing  years,  for,  by  his  own  and 
and  his  friends  contribution,  he  furnished  him  with 
means  to   pursue    his   studies.      The    Dutchess   of 
Bedford,  being  informed  of  his  circumstances,  char- 
acter and  strong  inclination  for  learning,  made  him, 
an  offer,  that  if  he  chose  to  be  educated  to  the  minis- 
try of  the  church  of  England,  and  would  goto  either 
of  the  universities,  she  would  support  the  expence  of 
his   education  ;  and  if  she  should  live  till  he  had  ta- 
ken orders,  would  provide  for  him  in  the  church. 
This  proposal  he  received  with  the  warmest  gratitude 
but,  in  the  most  respectful  manner,  declined  it,  as 
he  could  not  then  satisfy  his  conscience,  to  comply 
with  the  terms  of  ministerial  conformity. 

In  October  1719,  he  was  placed  under  Mr.  Jen-j 
nings,  who  kept  an  academy  at  Kilworth,  in  Leiceis- 
tershire  ;  and,  during  his  studies  at  this  place,  h( 
"was  noted  for  his  diligence,  serious  spirit  and  extraor- 
dinary care  to  improve  his  talents.  He  was  first  set- 
tled as  a  minister,  at  Kilworth,  in  that  county,  where 
he  preached  to  a  small  congregation  in  an  obscun 
village  ;  but  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Jennings,  he  suc- 
ceeded to  his  academy,  and  soon  after  was  called  t( 
the  care  of  a  large  dissenting  congregation  at  North- 
ampton, where  he  carried  his  pupils  along  with  him 
who  soon  after,  in  consequence  of  his  high  reputation 
for  talents  and  assiduity,  greatly  increased  in  num- 


DICTIONARY.  S39 

ber.  Here  he  spent  almost  the  whole  of  the  remain- 
der of  his  life,  which  being  entirely  employed  in  his 
closet,  in  his  academy,  and  in  his  congregation, 
cannot  be  supposed  to  afford  many  incidents,  to  gain 
the  attention  of  the  generality  of  readers.  He  died 
in  the  year  1747,  at  Lisbon,  whither  he  had  gone  a 
short  time  before,  for  the  recovery  of  his  health  ;  and 
his  remains  were  interred  there,  in  the  burying 
ground  belonging  to  the  British  factory.  A  hand- 
some monument  was  afterwards  erected  to  his  mem- 
ory, in  his  meeting  house,  at  Northampton,  at  the 
expence  of  his  congregation,  and  an  epitaph  inscribed 
on  it  by  his  friend,  Gilbert  West. 

He  was  the  author  of  many  excellent  writings,  irt 
which  his  pious,  benevolent  and  indefatigable  zeal 
to  make  men  wise,  good  and  happy,  are  every  where 
conspicuous.  Of  these,  the  most  remarkable  are 
"  The  rise  and  progress  of  religion  in  the  soul,  illustrat- 
ed in  a  course  of  serious  and  practical  discourses,  suited 
to  persons  of  every  character  and  circumstance,  with 
a  devout  meditation  or  prayer  at  the  end  of  each 
chapter,"  and  "  The  family  expositor,  containing  a 
version  and  paraphrase  of  the  New  Testament,  with 
critical  notes,  and  a  practical  improvement  of  each 
section,"  in  6  vols.  4  to. 


DODSLEY,  (Robert)  an  ingenious  writer,  and 
very  eminent  bookseller  in  London,  who,  from  an 
humble  sphere  of  life,  in  which  he  conducted  him- 
self with  exemplary  propriety,  attained  competency 
and  affluence,  was  born  in  Nottinghamshire,  Eng- 
land, in  the  year  1713. 

The  world  has  long  been  misled  by  an  opinion, 
which  is  not  yet  entirely  removed,  that  talents  and 
prudence  are  incompatible  qualities,  that  it  is  not 
easy  to  be  a  wit  without  mortgaging  our  estates,  and 
that  a  poet  must  necessarily  be  in  debt,  and  live  in  a 
garret.     Jt  was  Dodsley's  good  fortune,  to  prove,  if 


240  '  NEW  BIOGRAPHICA*L 

my  proof  were  necessary,  that  a  man's  cultivating 
lis  understanding,  is  no  impediment  to  improving 
ais  fortune,  and,  that  it  is  very  possible  to  be  an 
author,  without  neglecting  one's  pecuniary  con- 
■jerns. 

Mr.  Dodsley's  first  setting  out  in  life,  was  in  the 
humble  station  of  footman  to  a  person  of  quality, 
from  which,  however,  his  abilities  very  soon  raised; 
him;    for,    having   written  "  The  Toy-Shop,"  and 
that  piece  being  shown  to  Mr.  Pope,  the  delicacy  of' 
satire,  which  is  conspicuous  in  it,  though  clothed, 
with  the  greatest  simplicity  of  design,  so  strongly, 
recommended  its  author  to  the  notice  of  that  cele- 
brated poet,  that  he  continued  from  that  time  till  the 
day  of  his  death,  a  warm  friend  and  zealous  patron i 
of  Mr.  Dodsley,  and  got  the  piece  immediately  in-, 
troduced  on  the  stage,  where  it  met  with  the  suc-i 
cess  it  so  richly  merited. 

His  next  production,  which  was  a  farce  entitled, 
"  The  King  and  Miller  of  Mansfield,"  exhibits  a  na- 
tural and  highly  interesting  contrast  between  the  un- 
adorned solidity  of  country  manners,  and  the  splen- 
did vices  of  a  court;  the  blunt  honesty  of  a  miller, 
and  the  slender  importance  of  a  monarch,  without 
his  attendants  in  a  sequestered  spot,  and  in  midnight 
darkness.  It  has  also  a  number  of  pleasing  songs, 
which  still  continuing  to  be  popular,  afford  satisfac- 
tory proof  of  their  original  merit.  This  piece  was 
first  represented  in  the  year  1736,  and  was  received 
with  unbounded  applause. 

From  the  success  of  these  pieces,  he  entered  into 
the  business  of  a  bookseller,  which,  of  all  others,  has 
the  closest  connection  with,  and  the  most  immedi- 
ate dependance  on  persons  of  genius  and  literature. 
In  this  station,  Mr.  Pope's  recommendation,  and  his 
own  merit,  soon  obtained  him  the  countenance  of 
persons  of  the  first  rank  and  abilities,  and,  in  a  few 
years,  raised  him  to  the  greatest  eminence  in  his  pro- 
fession, of  v^^hich  he  was  almost,  if  not  altogether,  at 


DICTIONARY,  $4-1 

the  head.  Yet,  neither  in  this  capacity,  nor  in  that 
of  a  writer,  had  success,  any  effect  upon  him.  In 
the  one  line,  he  preserved  the  strictest  integrity; 
in  the  other,  the  most  becoming  humility.  Mind- 
ful of  the  early  encouragement  his  own  talents 
met  with,  he  was  ever  ready  to  give  the  same  op- 
portunity of  advancement  to  those  of  others,  and 
v/as,  on  many  occasions,  not  only  the  publisher,  but 
the  patron  of  genius.  But  there  is  no  circumstance 
which  adds  more  lustre  to  his  character,  than  the 
grateful  remembrance  he  retained,  and  ever  express- 
ed, to  the  memory  of  those,  to  whom  he  owed  the 
obligation  of  his  first  being  taken  notice  of  in  life. 

Mr.  Dodsley  acquired,  by  his  profession,  a  very 
handsome  property,  with  which  he  retired  from  bu-^ 
siness,  some  time  before  his  death,  which  happened 
at  Durham,  25t]i  September,  1761-.  He  wrote  six 
dramatic  pieces,  and  besides  these,  he  published  a 
little  collection  of  his  own  works,  in  1  vol.  8  vo.  un- 
der the  modest  title  of"  Trifles,''  1745,  and  a  poem 
of  considerable  length,  entitled  "  Public  Virtue  " 
1754,  4  to.  A  second  volume  of  "Trifles'*  collected 
after  his  death,  consisting  of  1st,  "  Cleone,"  2d, 
Melpomene,  or  the  Regions  of  Terror  and  Pity,'*  an 
ode,  3d,  "  Agriculture,'*  a  poem,  and  4th  "  The 
CEconomy  of  Human  life.'* 

Mr.  Dodsley  also  executed  two  works  of  great  ser- 
vice to  the  cause  of  genius,  as  they  have  been  the 
means  of  preserving  pieces  of  merit,  which  might 
otherwise  have  sunk  into  oblivion,  viz.  the  publication 
of  "  A  Collection  of  Poems  by  different  eminent 
Hands," Jn  6  vols.  12  mo.  and  "A  Collection  of 
Plays  by  old  Authors,**  in  12  vols,  of  the  same  size. 

DRAKE,   (Sir  Francis)  a  most  distinguished 

)g\\s\\  naval  commander,  who   flourished   in   the 

eign  of  queen  Elizabeth,  was  the  son  of  a  common 

iailor,  and  born  in  Devonshire,  in    1545.     He  was 

>rought  up  at  the  expence,  and  under  the  care  of 

Vol.  II.  No.  13.  H2 


2-12  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

Sir  John  Hawkins,  and  at  the  age  of  18,  was  purser 
of  a  ship  sailing  to  Biscay.  At  twenty-two,  he  had 
the  honor  of  commanding  the  ship  Judith,  in  which 
capacity,  he  was  in  the  harbour  of  St.  John  de 
UiJoa,  where,  after  having  greatly  signalized  him- 
self by  his  gallantry  in  different  actions,  under  his 
patron  Sir  John  Hawkins,  he  returned  with  that  of-- 
iicer  to  England,  rich  in  reputation,  though  poor  ia 
money.  Upon  this,  he  projected  a  design  against^ 
the  Spaniards,  in  the  West-Indies,  which  he  no 
sooner  published,  than  he  had  volunteers  in  abundanee'i 
ready  to  accompany  him.  In  1570,  he  made  his  firsts 
expedition,  iii  which  he  w-as  much  assisted  by  a  na-l 
tion  of  Indians,  who  were,  at  that  time,  engaged; 
in  hostilities  against  the  Spaniards.  The  prince  of 
these  people  was  named  Pedro,  to  whom  Drake 
made  a  present  of  a  fine  cutlass,  which  he  saw  had 
greatly  attracted  the  Indian's  fancy.  Pedro,  in  return, 
gave  him  four  large  wedges  of  gold,  which  Drake 
threw  into  the  common  stock,  with  this  remarkable 
expression,  that  "  he  thought  it  but  jus4:,  that  such: 
as  bore  the  charge  of  so  uncertain  a  voyage  on  his 
credit,  should  share  the  utmost  advantages  that 
voyage  produced."  Then  embarking  his  men,  withj 
alHhe  wealth  he  had  obtained,  w^hich  was  very  con- 
siderable, he  set  out  for  England,  where  he  arrived 
in  August  1573. 

The  use  he   made  of  his  riches,  added  greatly  to 
his    reputation;    for,  soon   after  his  return,   having 
fitted  out  three  frigates  at  his  own  expence,  he  sail- 
ed  with  them  into   Ireland,  where,   under  Walter,] 
Earl  of  Essex,  he  served  as  a  volunteer,  and  perform- 
ed many  gallant  exploits.     After  the  death  of  his  no-| 
bie  patron,  he  went  back  to  England,  and  was  in- 
troduced   to  queen  Elizabeth,  who  was  pleased  to 
honor  him  with  her  countenance  and  protection;  by 
which  means,   he  was   enabled  to   undertake  thai 
grand  expedition,  which  will  render  his  name  iir, 
mortal  in'the  annals  of  English  historv;  we  mean  1: 


I 


DICTIONARY.  243 

voyage  into  the  South  Seas,  by  the  straits  of  Magel- 
lan, which  had  never  before  that  time,  been  attempt- 
ed by  any  Englishman. 

The  fleet,  with  which  he  sailed  on  this  extra- 
ordinary undertaking,  consisted  only  of  five  small 
vessels,  and  164  able  men.  With  these,  he  sailed 
from  England,  Dec.  15th  1577,  entered  the  straits  of 
Magellan,  Aug.  20th  following,  and  passed  them  on 
the  25th  September,  having  then  only  his  own  ship  ; 
for  he  had  taken  the  provisions  out  of  two  of  the 
others,  and  destroyed  them ;  and  his  vice  Admiral, 
captain  Winter,  had  returned  to  England.  On  the 
25th  Nov.  he  came  to  Machao,  from  whence,  after 
a  short  stay,  to  refit  his  vessel,  he  continued  his 
voyage  along  the  coasts  of  Chili  and  Peru,  taking 
every  opportunity  of  capturing  Spanish  ships,  and 
attacking  their  settlements,  til!  his  crew  were  sated 
with  plunder,  and  then  coasting  North-i\merica  to 
the  height  of  48  degrees,  he  endeavoured  to  find  a 
passage  back  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  but  found  it 
impracticable.  He  landed,  however,  and  took  pos* 
session  of  the  country,  which  he  called  New  Albion, 
in  the  name  of  queen  Elizabeth,  and  having  careen- 
ed his  ship,  set  sail  for  the  Moluccas,  where  he  arriv- 
ed 4th  Nov.  1579.  From  thence,  he  shaped  his 
course  towards  England, and  after  having  experienced 
a  series  of  difficulties,  entered  Plymouth  harbour 
Sd  Nov.  1580,  having  completed  this  voyage  round 
the  world  in  two  years  and  about  ten  months. 

His  success  in  this  voyage,  and  the  immense  riches 
he  brought  home  with  him,  became  the  general  sub- 
ject  of  conversation,  some  highly  commending,  whilst 
others,  as  loudly  decried  his  conduct,  which,  how- 
ever, in  a  short  time,  met  with  the  highest  approba- 
tion of  queen  Elizabeth,  who,  after  having  dined 
on  board  his  vessel,  at  Deptford,  April  4th  i581, 
conferred  upon  him  the  honor  of  knigluhood.  She 
likewise,  gave  directions  that  his  ship  should  be  pre« 


244  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL  ^^M 

served  as  a  monument  of  his  own  and  his  country's 
glory. 

If,  however,  there  were  some,  who  objected  to 
the  manner  in  which  he  acquired  so  vast  property,  he  - 
was  certainly  entitled  to  much  commendation,  for  the 
manner  in  which  he  expended  a  great  part  of  it. 
The  inhabitants  of  Plymouth,    in  particular,  were 
vastly  indebted  to  his  generosity  and  public  spirit, 
for  about  the  year  1583,  he  undertook  to  bring  water 
into  that  town,  through  the  want  of  which,  it  had, 
till  that  time,  been  grievously  distressed,  and  he  per- 
formed it  by  conducting  thither  a  stream  from  the 
distance  of  eight  miles,  that  is  to  say,  in  a  straight 
line,  for  by  the  manner,  in  which  he  was  obliged  to 
bring  it,  the  course  of  it  runs  upwards  of  20  miles. 

In  1585,  he  sailed  with  a  fleet  to  the  West-Indies, 
and  took  the  cities  ofSt.  Jago,  St.  Domingo,  Cartha- 
gena  and  St.  Augustine.  In  1587,  he  went  to  Lis- 
bon with  a  fleet  of  thirty  sail,  and  having  intelli- 
gence, that  a  great  number  of  vessels  had  assembled 
in  the  bay  of  Cadiz,  which  were  to  have  made  a  part 
of  the  famous  armada,  destined  for  the  invasion  of 
England,  he,  with  great  courage,  entered  the  port, 
nnd  burnt  upwards  of  10,000  tons  of  shipping.  lu 
1588,  when  the  armada  from  Spain  was  approach- 
ing the  English  coast,  he  was  appointed  vice  ad- 
iniral,  under  lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  high  ad- 
miral of  England,  where  fortune  favored  him  as  re- 
markably as  ever;  for  he  made  prize  of  a  very  large 
galleon,  commanded  by  Don  Pedro  de  Valdez,  who 
was  reputed  the  projector  of  this  invasion.  This  lucky 
affair  happened  in  the  following  manner ;  on  July  22d, 
Sir  Francis,  observing  a  large  Spanish  ship  floating 
at  a  distance  from  both  fleets,  sent  his  pinnace  to 
summon  the  commander  to  surrender.  Valdez  repli- 
ed, with  great  solemnity,  that  they  were  450  strong, 
that  he  himself  was  Don  Pedro,  and,  that  as  he  had 
a  strong  sense  of  honor,  he  would  not  yield,  unless, 
upon  certain  conditions,  which  he  then  proposed* 


DICTIO^IARY,  245 

To  thi^,  the  English  hero  replied,  that  he  had  no 
time  to  parley,  but  that  if  he  did  not  instantly  sur- 
render, he  should  soon  find  that  Drake  was  no  cow- 
ard. Upon  hearing  a  name  mentioned,  which  was  so 
very  terrible  to  the  Spaniards,  Pedro  immediately 
struck,  and  after  having  remained,  above  two  years 
prisoner  in  England,  paid,  as  a  ransom  for  his  liber- 
ty, the  sum  of  1  5,540  dollars.  Drake's  crew  were 
well  recompensed  for  the  capture  of  this  ship,  as 
they  found  in  it,  an  immense  quantity  of  gold  and  sil- 
ver which  was  divided  amongst  them.  In  an  engage- 
ment, which  soon  after  took  place,  he  likewise,  be- 
haved with  the  utmost  gallantry,  and  contributed 
materially  to  frustrate  tlie  design  of  the  Spaniards, 
which  was  afterwards  rendered  completely  abortive, 
by  the  commotion  of  the  elements. 

In  1589,  an  expedition  was  projected  for  the  res- 
toration of  Antonio,  king  of  Portugal,  upon  which 
occasion.  Sir  John  Norris  was  commander  of  the 
land  forces,  and  Sir  Francis,  admiral  of  the  fioet; 
but,  in  consequence  of  a  disagreement  between 
these  two  officers,  the  attempt  did  not  succeed.  The 
war  with  Spain  continuing,  a  more  extensive  expe- 
dition than  any,  which  had  been  hitherto  made,  was 
undertaken  by  Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Drake,  against 
their  settlements  in  the  West-Indies;  but  in  this  in- 
stance, as  well  as  the  former,  the  commanders  disa- 
greeing about  the  plan,  it  did  not  turn  out  so  succss- 
inUy  as  was  expected.  A  strong  sense  of  these  dis- 
appointments, to  a  man  like  Drake,  who,  previous 
to  these  two  expeditions,  had  uniformly  surmounted 
all  difficulties,  must  have  been  very  chagrining,  and 
is  supposed  to  have  thrown  him  into  a  melancholy, 
which  accelerated  his  death.  This  happened  on 
board  his  own  vessel,  in  the  West-Indies,  January 
28th,  1596. 


246  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

DRAPER,  (Sir  William)  an  English  Officer  of 
great  merit,  concerning  the  precise  time  of  whose 
birth,  we  are  not  intormed,  is  supposed  to  have  re- 
ceived his  grammar  learning  at  Eton,  and  to  have 
completed  his  education  at  King's  college,  Cam- 
bridge. Having  early  discovered  a  predilection  for 
a  military  life,  he  entered  into  the  army,  and  after 
going  through  the  regular  gradations  of  service,  was 
employed  about  the  year  1758,  to  raise  a  regiment 
of  foot,  (the  79th)  to  serve  in  the  East-Indies.  The 
regiment  was  soon  com.pleted,  at  Chelmsford,  in 
Essex ;  and  colonel  Draper,  while  the  regiment  lay 
in  that  town,  exhibited  the  model  of  an  excellent  of- 
ficer, not  merely  by  the  strictest  attention  to  military 
evolutions  and  discipline,  but  by  taking  care'  to  incul- 
cate on  his  men,  a  becoming  reverence  for  the  Su- 
preme Being,  as  well  as  the  necessity  of  a  life  of  so- 
iDriety  and  decorum;  and,  that  they  might  not  want 
the  best  means  of  instruction,  he  purchased,  at  his 
own  expence,  a  large  number  of  bibles  and  books 
of  common  prayer,  to  be  distributed  amongst  them. 

It  seems  to  have  been  long  a  prevalent  idea,  that 
a  devout  life  is  incompatible  with  the  character  of  a 
gallant  soldier.  History,  however,  furnishes  the  man 
of  reflection,  with  a  variety  of  examples,  which 
abundantly  prove  the  contrary,  and  amongst  those, 
we  may  mention  the  subject  of  the  present  mem.oir, 
who,  though  a  steady  observer  of  every  moral  and 
religious  duty,  and  studious  that  those  under  his 
command,  should  be  influenced  by  similar  princi- 
ples, was,  notwithstanding,  a  brave  and  success- 
ful commander.  To  Americans,  however,  there  can 
be  no  necessity  of  proving,  that  a  life  of  piety  is  no 
impediment  to  the  acquisition  of  military  fame.  They 
need  only  to  reflect,  that  their  immortal  Washing- 
ton, v/hose  greatness  in  the  art  of  war,  stands  unri- 
valled in  the  annals  of  history,  was  uniformly  stead- 
fast in  the  practice,  as  well  as  the  profession  of  the 
christian  religion.    And,  should  those  of  our  aspiring 


DICTIONARY.  247 

youth,  who,  at  a  future  period  may  be  called  to 
arms  in  defence  of  their  country,  only  bear  his 
glorious  example  steadfastly  in  view,  our  camps 
would  be  converted  from  schools  of  profaneness  and 
immorality,  into  seminaries  of  improvement  in  every 
moral  and  heroic  virtue. 

But  to  return  from  our  digression,  Mr.  Draper  hav- 
ing arrived  in  the  East-Indies,  displayed  the  greatest 
gallantry  at  Madras,  in  the  year  1759,  and  to  his  ef- 
forts, in  conjunction  with  those  of  colonel  Lawrence 
and  major  Brereton,  the  raising  of  the  siege  of  that 
important  fortress,  was  owing.  In  1760,  he  return- 
ed to  England,  and  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  bri- 
gadier-general, in  the  expedition  agsinst  Belleisle, 
which  was  taken  from  the  French,  June  7th  1761. 
Being  sent  again  to  the  East-Indies,  he  conducted  in 
conjunction  with  Admiral  Cornish,  the  ^expedition 
against  Manilla,  the  capital  of  the  Philippine  Islands, 
which  surrendered  on  the  6th  of  Oct.  1765,  and  was 
preserved  from  plunder,  by  a  ransom  of  four  millions 
of  dollars,  which,  however,  the  Spaniards  never  paid. 
Soon  after  Mr.  Draper's  return  to  England,  he  was 
rewarded  for  his  services,  by  the  honor  of  knight- 
hood ;  and  upon  the  reduction  of  his  regiment,  the 
79th,  which  had  served  so  nobly  in  the  East-Indies, 
his  majesty,  unsolicited,  gave  him  the  16th  regiment 
as  an  equivalent.  This,  however,  he  soon  after 
resigned,  and  retired  on  half  pay. 

In  1769,  v/e  find  him  engaged  as  a  literary  charac- 
ter, in  a  contest  with  the  celebrated  political  writer 
Junius;  and  though  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that 
he  was  inferior  to  his  antagonist,  in  point  of  acute- 
ness  and  ingenuity,  he  was,  nevertheless,  entitled 
to  the  praise  of  excellence  in  this  kind  of  writing.  In 
October  of  the  same  year,  he  made  a  voyage  to 
South-Carolina,  for  the  recovery  of  his  health,  and 
embraced  that  opportunity  of  making  the  tour  of 
]S]orth  America.  Y/hen  he  arrived  in  Nev^-York,  he 
made  some  stay  in  that  city,  where  he  married  Mis's 


245  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


I 


De  Lancey,  the  daughter  of  the  chief  justice  of  the 
province,  but  that  lady  died  in  July  1778,  leaving 
him  a  daughter,  born  in  1773,  who  survived  her  fa- 
ther and  enjoyed  an  ample  fortune,  which  came  to 
her  by  her  mother's  relations.  In  1779,  Sir  William 
Draper,  having  then  the  rank  of  lieutenant-general, 
was  appointed  lieutenant  governor  of  Minorca. 
During  the  siege  of  that  important  place,  he  was  un- 
fortunately upon  ill  terms  with  the  governor,  general 
Murray,  against  whom,  upon  their  return  to  England, 
he  exhibited  29  charges.  The  court  martial  deemed 
27  frivolous  and  groundless,  and  for  the  other  two, 
the  governor  was  ordered  to  be  reprimanded;  which 
order  was,  hoW|!vcr,  remitted,  and  Sir  William  Dra* 
per  was  obliged  to  make  an  apology  to  the  general, 
for  having  instigated  the  trial  against  him.  After 
this,  he  settled  at  Bath,  where  he  continued  to  live 
in  retirement  till  his  death,  which  happened  8th 
January  1787. 

DRAYTON,  (William)  was  a  native  of  South 
Carolina,  and  born  in  the  year  1733,  After  having 
received  the  first  principles  of  his  education  from  a 
private  tutor,  who  lived  in  the  family,  he  was,  about 
the  year  1747,  placed  under  Thomas  Corbett,  Fsq. 
who  was  then  one  of  the  most  eminent  lawyers  of  the 
province,  and  was  afterwards  appointed  sherrifF  of 
V/estminster,  England.  In  1750,  he  accompanied 
that  gentleman  to  London,  and  entered  into  the 
middle  temple,  where  he  continued  till  the  year  1754 
at  which  time,  he  returned  to  his  native  country. 

Although  his  abilities  were  confessedly  great,  yet 
from  a  disinclination  to  the  common  practice  of  the 
law,  he  soon  quitted  the  bar  ;  still,  however,  he  pur- 
sued his  studies  and  law  reading,  with  the  same  dili- 
gence, as  if  in  full  practice. 

In  or  about  the  year  1768,  he  was  appointed 
chief  justice  in  the  province  of  East  Florida,  where 


DICTIONARY*  2iO 

lie  continued  beloved  and  highly  respected,  both  in 
his  private  and  public  character,  by  the  most  worthy 
part  of  that  community.  The  troubles  in  America, 
in  1775,  were  the  commencement  of  his  also.  Un- 
generous suspicions  took  possession  of  the  governor*s 
breast,  who  being  a  man  of  illiberal  sentiments,  used 
every  base  and  mean  art  to  enthral  the  chief  justice 
and  to  extract,  from  him,  his  political  sentiments, 
and  at  last  actually  suspended  him.  On  this,  he 
resolved  on  a  voyage  to  England,  which,  how- 
ever, he  would  have  found  extremely  difficult  to  ac- 
complish, had  not  the  first  characters  of  St.  Augustine 
supported  him,  in  opposition  to  the  governor,  who 
conscious  of  his  own  baseness,  endeavoured  as  much 
as  possible  to  prevent  his  departure.  The  chief 
justice  had  not  been  long  in  London,  before  he  was 
reinstated  and  sent  back  to  St.  Augustine,  where, 
however,  as  he  was  too  open  to  disguise  his  senti- 
ments, he  soon  incurred  the  displeasure  of  governor 
Tonyn,  by  the  unreserved  manner  in  which  he  spoke 
of  that  gentleman  and  his  emissaries.  This  occasioned 
a  second  suspension,  in  consequence  of  which,  Mr, 
Drayton  returned  to  England,  and  took  with  him  his 
whole  family,  in  the  year  1778  or  79,  being  in  hopes 
that  he  should  be  there  not  only  able  to  obtain  re- 
dress; but,  also  to  punish  the  author  of  his  wrongs. 
Owing,  however,  cither  to  the  distracted  situation 
of  affairs  in  America,  or  to  the  superior  influence  of 
of  Mr.  Tonyn's  supporters  in  the  British  cabinet,  he 
was  unable  to  effect  his  purpose.  In  the  year  1783, 
he  again  returned  to  America,  where  he  was  receiv- 
ed by  his  countrymen  with  every  mark  of  esteem, 
which  his  many  great  and  goocj  qualities  justly  merit- 
ed, and  was  soon  after  appointed  judge  of  the  admi- 
ralty of  South-Carolina. 

The  losses  which  he  had  sustained  by  the  ungene- 
rous, and  unjustifiable  proceedings  of  the  governor 
of  East  Florida,  and  from  the  change  of  property 
which  took  place  in  consequence  of  the  war,  together 

Vol.  II,  No.  13.  12 


250.  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL' 

with  a  numerous  family,  obliged  him  to  apply  him* 
self  to  the  practice  of  the  law,  in  an  advanced  period 
of  life,  and  with  a  broken  constitution.  His  abili- 
ties, however,  were  soon  discovered  to  stand  amongst 
the  foremost  at  the  bar,  and  his  love  of  justice  was 
equal  to  his  abilities  as  a  lawyer.  To  the  exertion 
of  the  first,  in  support  of  the  greatly  injured  in  a 
very  intricate  cause,  may  be  justly  attributed  the  pre- 
cipitating the  complaint  of  the  gout  and  rheumatism, 
so  as  to  render  him  incapable,  without  great  pain, 
of  attending  to  his  profession  for  the  last  eighteen 
or  twenty  months  of  his  life.  In  March  1689,  he' 
was  appointed  one  of  the  associate  judges  of  the 
State,  which  he  resigned,  the  October  following,  on 
being  made  a  judge  under  the  federal  government. 
This,  however,  he  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy,  as  he 
died  in  the  beginning  of  June  1790. 

To  sum  up  the  whole  of  this  gentleman's  charac- 
ter in  a  few  words,  it  may  be  said,  that,  with  a  very 
liberal  education,  improved  by  just  obsertations,  he 
possessed  the  most  liberal  sentiments.  He  was  be- 
nevolent, kind  and  affable  to  all,  and  may,  without 
flattery,  be  allowed  to  have  been  a  pattern  in  the  so- 
cial ties  of  husband,  father,  and  friend.  He  receiv- 
ed the  information  of  his  approaching  end,  a  very 
few  hours  before  it  took  place,  with  a  serenity  and 
fortitude,  which  did  him  the  highest  honor,  and 
took  leave  of  his  family  with  so  much  calmness,  as 
seemed  even  to  soften  their  afflictions,  and  to  com- 
fort them  under  the  great  loss,  they  were  about  to 
sustain,  and  he  breathed  his  last  without  a  groan. 

DRINKER,  (Edward)  was  born  on  the  24th 
Dec.  1680.  in  a  small  cabin,  near  the  present  corner 
cf  Walnut  and  Second  streets,  in  the  city  of  Phila- 
delphia. His  parents  came  from  a  place  called  Bev- 
erly, in  Massachusetts.  The  banks  of  the  Delaware 
on'which  the  city  of  Philadelphia  now  stands,  were 
inhabited,  at  the  time  of  his  birth,  by  Indians  end  a 


DICTIONARY.  251 

few  Swedes  and  Hollanders.  He  often  talked  to  his 
companions  of  picking  whortleberries  and  catching 
rabbits  on  spots  now  the  most  populous  and  improv- 
ed of  the  city.  He  recollected  the  second  time  Wil- 
liam Penn  came  to  Pennsylvania,  and  used  to  point 
to  the  place,  where  the  cabin  stood,  in  which  he  and 
his  friends,  who  accompanied  him,  were  accomodat- 
ed upon  their  arrival.  At  the  age  of  12  years,  he 
went  to  Boston,  where  he  served  an  apprentice-ship 
to  a  cabinet  maker.  In  the  year  1745  he  returned  to 
Phik-delphia,  with  his  family,  where  he  lived  to  the 
time  of  his  death.  He  v/as  four  times  married,  and 
had  eighteen  children,  all  of  whom  were  by  his  first 
wife  ;  and  not  long  before  his  death,  he  heard  of  the 
birth  of  a  grand-child  to  one  of  his  grand-children,  be- 
ing the  fifth  in   succession    from  himself. 

Pie  retained  all  his  faculties  till  the  last  years-of  his 
life  ;  even  his  memory,  which  is  so  early  and  so  gen- 
erally diminished  by  age  was  but  little  impaired.   He 
not  only  remembered  the  incidents  of  his  childhood, 
or  youth,  but  the  events  of  latter  years,  and  so  faith- 
ful was  his  memory  to  him,  that  his  son  said,  he  never 
heard  him  tell  the  same  story  twice,  but  to  different 
persons  and  in  diflferent  companies.     His  eye  sight 
failed  him   many  years    before    his  death  ;  but  his 
hearing  was  uniformly  perfect  and  unimpaired,  and 
his  appetite  continued  good,  till  within  a  few  wrecks 
of  his  decease.     He  had  lost  all  his  teeth,  thirty  years 
before  his  death  ;  but  the  want  of  suitable  mastica- 
tion of  his  food,  did  not  prevent  its  speedy  digestion, 
nor  impair  his  health.     Whether  the  gums  hardened 
by  age,  supplied  the  place  of  his  teeth,  in  a  certain  de- 
gree, or  whether  the  juices  of  the  mouth  and  stomach 
became  so  much  more  acrid  by  time,   as  to  perform 
the  office  of  dissolving  the  food  more  speedily  and 
more  perfectly,  is  not  known  ;  but  it  has  been  often 
observed,  that  old  people  are  more  subject  to  exces- 
sive eating  than  young  ones,  and  that  they  suffer  few- 
er inconveniences  from  it.     He  was  inquisitive  "al- 


^'S2  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ternews  in  the  last  years  of  his  life.  Indeed,  his  edu- 
cation did  not  lead  him  to  increase  the  stock  of  his 
ideas  in  any  other  way  :  but  it  is  a  fact  well  worthy 
of  being  observed,  that  old  age,  instead  of  diminish- 
ing, always  increases  the  desire  of  knowledge,  and 
it  must  afford  no  small  consolation  to  those,  who  ex- 
pect to  be  old,  to  discover,  that  the  infirmities,  to 
which  the  decays  of  nature  expose  the  human  body, 
are  rendered  more  tolerable  by  the  enjoyments, 
which  are  to  be  derived  from  the  appetite  for  both 
sensual  and  intellectual  food. 

Though  it  must  be  acknowledged,   that  there  are 
some  instances  of  individuals,  who,  being  naturally 
possessed  of  an  uncommonly  strong  and  robust  con- 
stitution, have  notwithstanding  their  frequent  indul- 
gence in  the  immoderate  use  of  spirituous  liqubrs, 
attained  to  an  advanced  age;  yet,  from  an  attentive 
observation  of  the  mode  of  life,  pursued  by  persons 
tnost  remarkable  for  longevity,  we  run  no  risquie  in 
hazarding  the  assertion,  that  nine  tenths  of  those,  who, 
in  the  full  enjoyment  of  health  and  tranquillity,  have 
either  exceeded,  or  verged  towards  the  age  ot  a  cen- 
tury, have  been  peculiarly  distinguished  by  a  strict 
adherence  to  temperance  and  sobriety.     This  was  re- 
markably the  case  with  Mr.  Drinker,  whom  neither 
hard  labouF,  company,  the  usual  afflictions  of  human 
life,  nor  the  wastes  of  nature,  ever  led  to  an  iniprop- 
er,  or  an  excessive  use  of  strong  drink ;  and  his  son  a 
luan  of  59  years  of  age  declared,  he  had  never  seen 
him  intoxicated.     For  the  last  25  years  of  his  life,  he 
drank  twice  every  day,  a  draught  of  toddy,  made 
with  two  table  spoonfuls  of  spirits  in  half  a  pint  of 
water;  but    the  time  and   manner,    in  vyhich    he 
used  spirituous  liquors,  in  all  probability,  instead  of 
impairing  his  constitution,  contributed  to  lighten  the 
weight  of  his  years,  and  to  prolong  his  lite. 

He  enjoyed  an  uncommon  share  of  health,  inso- 
jnuch  that,  in  the  course  of  his  long  life,  he  was  never 
confined  more  than  three  days  to  his  bed,  and  h^ 


DICTIONARY.  252 

often  declared,  that  he  had  no  idea  of  that  most  dis- 
tressing pain  the  head-ache.  The  character  of  Mr, 
Drinker,  however,  was  not  summed  up  in  the  negaK 
tive  quality  of  temperance ;  he  was  a  man  of  a  mos-t 
amiable  temper,  and,  as  old  age  had  not  curdled  his^ 
blood,  he  continued  to  the  last,  to  be  uniformly  cheer- 
ful anc^  kind  to  every  body.  His  religious  princi- 
ples were  as  steady,  as  his  morals  were  pure:  he  at- 
tended public  worship  above  thirty  years,  in  the 
Presbyterian  church,  under  the  Reverend  and  pious 
Dr.  Sproat,  and  died  in  the  fullest  assurance  ot  a  hap-, 
py  immortality. 

The  life  of  this  aged  citizen,  is  marked  with  seve* 
ral  circumstances,  which  have  seldom  occurred  in  the 
life  of  an  individual;  for  he  was,  in  all  probability, 
an  eye  witness  to  as  great,  if  not  a  greater  number 
of  remarkable  events,  than  have  fallen  to  the  lot  of 
any  one  man  to  see,  since  the  days  of  the  Patriarchs. 
He  saw  the  same  spot  of  earth,  in  the  course  of  hia 
own  life,  covered  with  wood  and  bushes,  the  recep- 
tacles of  wild  beasts,  and  birds  of  prey,  afterwards 
become  the  seat  of  a  great  city,  not  only  equal  in 
wealth  and  in  arts  to  any  in  the  new,  but  rivalling 
in  both,  many  of  the  first  cities  in  the  old  world;  hq 
saw  great  and  regular  streets,  where  he  had  often 
pursued  hares  and  wild  rabbits;  he  saw  fine  churches 
rise  upon  morasses,  where  he  used  to  hear  nothing 
but  the  croaking  of  frogs;  great  wharves  and  ware- 
houses, where  he  had  so  often  seen  the  Indians 
draw  their  fish  from  the  river,  for  their  daily  subsis- 
tence ;  and  he  i^aw  ships  of  every  size  and  use,  in 
those  streams,  where  he  had  been  used  to  see  nothing 
larger  than  an  Indian  canoe;  and  on  the  same  spot, 
where  he  had  gathered  berries,  and  had,  very  proba*- 
bly,  seen  an  Indian  council  fire,  he  saw  their  City 
Hall  erected,  and  that  hall  filled  with  legislators,  as- 
tonishing the  world  with  their  wisdom  and  virtue. 
He  also  saw  the  first  treaty  ratified  with  the  United 
States  of  America,  and  the  la^tp. powerful  monarch 


254.  NEWBIOGRAI'HIGAL 

of  France,  with  all  the  formality  of  parchment  and 
seals,  on  the  same  spot  where  he^  saw  William 
Penn  ratify  his  -first  and  last  treaties  with  the  Indians : 
And  to  conclude,  he  saw  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  the  British  empire  in  Pennsylvania.  He  had  been 
the  subject  of  seven  crowned  heads ;  but,  when  he 
heard  of  the^  many  oppressive  and  unconstifutional 
acts  passed  in  Great  Britain,  he  bought  them  all, 
and  gave  them  to  his  great-grai^dsonsto  make  kites  of, 
and  embracing  the  liberty  and  independence  of  his 
country,  in  his  withered  arms,  and  triumphing  in 
the  last  year  of  his  life,  in  the  happiness  of  his  coun- 
try, he  died  on  the  17th  Nov.  1782,  aged  one  hun- 
dred and  three  years. 


DRYDEN,  (JoHi^)  one  of  the  most  emenent  Eng- 
iish  poets  of  the  seventeenth  century,  was  descended 
of  a  genteel  family  in  Huntingdonshire,  and  born,  in 
that  county  at  Aldwincle  August  9th,  1631.  He 
was  educated  in  grammar  learning  at  Westminster 
school,  from  whence  he  was  rem.oved  to  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge  in  1650,  of  which  he  afterwards  be- 
came fellow  ;  yet,  in  his  earlier  days,  he  gave  no  ex- 
traordinary indication  of  genius;  for  even  the  year 
before  he  quitted  the  university,  he  v/rote  a  poem, 
*'  On  the  death  of  the  Lord  Hastings,"  which  was  by 
no  means  a  presage  of  that  amazing  perfection  in 
poetical  powers,  which  he  afterwards  possessed. 

On  the  death  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  in  1658,  he 
wrote  some  heroic  stanzas  to  his  memory  ;  but,  on  the 
restoration,  being  desirous  of  ingratiating  himself  with 
the  new  court,  he  in  1660,  wrote  a  poem  intitled 
*^  Astrea  Redux,"  on  the  happy  restoration  and 
return  of  his  sacred  majesty  Charles  H.  In  1662, 
he  addressed  a  poem, "  To  the  Lord  Chancellor  Hyde, 
presented  on  New-Years  day,"  and,  in  the  same  year, 
published  "A  Satire  on  the  Dutch."  His  next  pro- 
duction was  "Annus  Mirabiiis,  the  Year  of  Wonders 


DICTIONARY^  255 

1G66,  an  Historical  Poem,"  in  celebration  of  the 
Duke  of  York's  victory  over  the  Dutch.  His  repu- 
tation as  a  poet  was  now  so  well  established,  that  this 
together  with  his  attachment  to  the  court,  procured 
him  the  place  of  poet  laureat  and  historiographer  to 
Charles  II.  in  1668.  About  this  time,  also  his  incli- 
nation to  write  for  the  stage  seems  first  to  have  shewn 
itself.  He  accordingly,  in  this  year,  published '^  An 
Essay  upon  Dramatic  Poesy,"  the  principal  design  of 
which  was  to  vindicate  the  honour  of  the  English 
writers,  from  the  censure  of  those,  who,  as  he  thought, 
unjustly  preferred  the  French.  In  1669,  his  first 
play,  a  comedy  called,"The  Wild  Gallant,"  was  acted 
at  the  Theatre  Royal;  but  with  so  little  success,  that 
if  the  author  had  not  had  a  peculiarly  strong  inclina- 
tion to  dramatic  writing,  he  would  have  been  deter- 
red from  any  further  attempt  in  it.  Mr.  Dryden, 
however,  by  no  means,  dismayed,  soon  after  published 
his  "  Indian  Emperor,"  which  finding  a  more  favour- 
able reception,  encouraged  him  to  proceed;  and  that 
with  such  rapidity,  that,  in  the  key  to  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham's  "  Rehearsal,"  he  is  recorded  to  have 
engaged  himself  by  contract,  for  the  writing  of  four 
plays  annually;  and  indeed,  in  the  years  1679,  and 
1680,  he  appears  to  have  fulfilled  that  contract.  To 
this  unhappy  necessity,  which  our  author  lay  under, 
are  to  be  attributed  all  those  irregularities,  all  those 
bombastic  flights,  and  sometimes  even  puerile  exu- 
berances, for  which  he  [has  been  so  severely  critici- 
zed; and  which,  in  the  unavoidable  hurry,  in  which 
he  wrote,  it  was  impossible  he  should  find  time,  either 
for  lopping  away,  or  correcting. 

In  1675,  the  Earl  of  Rochester,  whose  envious  dis- 
position would  not  permit  him  to  see  growing  merit 
meet  its  due  reward,  and  was,  therefore,  sincerely 
chagrined  at  the  very  first  applause,  with  which 
Mr.  Dryden's  dramatic  pieces  had  been  received, 
was  determined,  if  possible,  to  shake  his  interest  at 
court,  and  succeeded  so  far  as  to  recommend  Mr. 


25^  NEW  BIOGSIAPHICAJ,' 

Crowne,  an  author,  by  no  means,  of  equal  merit  t^ 
write  a  masque  for  the  court,  Avhich  certainly  be- 
longed to  Mr.  Dryden's  office  as  poet  laureat.  Not 
was  this  the  only  attack,  which  Mr.  Dryden's 
justly  acquired  fame  drew  on  him.  For  the  duke  of 
Buckingham  had,  some  years  before,  most  severely 
ridiculed  several  of  our  author's  plays  in  his  admired 
piece  called  "  The  Rehearsal."  But  though  the  in- 
trinsic wit,  which  runs  through  that  performance, 
cannot  even,  to  this  day,  fail  of  exciting  our  laugh** 
ter,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  it  ought  not  to  be  the 
standard,  on  which  we  should  fix  Mr.  Dryden's  po* 
etical  reputation,  if  we  consider,  that  the  pieces 
there  ridiculed,  are  not  any  of  those  looked  on  as  the 
chief  works  of  this  author  5  that  the  very  passages 
burlesqued,  are  frequently,  in  their  original  places, 
much  less  ridiculous  than  when  thus  detached  -,  and^ 
lastly,  that  the  various  inimitable  beauties,  which 
the  ill-natured  critic  has  sunk  in  oblivion,  are  infi- 
nitely more  numerous  than  the  deformities,  which  he 
has  thus  industriously  brought  forth  to  our  more  im- 
mediate inspection. 

Mr.  Dryden,  however,  did  not  suffer  these  attacks 
to  pass  with  im{)unity  y  for,  in  1679,  there  came  out 
*'  An  Essay  upon  Satire,'*  written  jointly  by  that 
gentleman  and  Lord  Mulgrave,  containing  some  ve- 
ry severe  reflections,  on  the  Earl  of  Rochester  and  the 
Dutchess  of  Portsmouth,  who,  it  is  not  improbable, 
might  be  a  joint  instrument,  in  the  above  mentioned 
affront  shewn  to  Mr.  Dry(ien  ;  and,  in  1671,  he 
published  his  "  Absalom  and  Achitophel,"  in  which 
the  well  known  character  of  Zimri,  drawn  for  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  is  certainly  severe  enough  to 
repay  all  the  ridicule  thrown  on  him  by  that  noble- 
man in  the  character  of  Bays.  The  resentment 
shewn  by  Rochester  and  Buckingham,  upon  this  oc- 
casion, was  very  different.  The  former,  who  was  a 
coward,  as  well  as  a  man  of  depraved  morals,  basely 
hired  three  ruflians  to  cudgel  Dryden  in  a  coffee  house  \ 


DICTIONARY.  257 

but  the  latter,  as  we  are  told,  in  a  more  open  man- 
ner, took  the  task  upon  himself;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  presented  him  with  a  purse  containing  a  consi- 
derable sum  of  money,  telling  him,  that  he  gave 
him  the  beating  as  a  punishment  for  his  impudence, 
but  bestowed  the  gold  upon  him,  as  a  reward  for 
his  wit. 

In  1680,  was  published  a  translation  of  *^  Ovid's 
Epistles,"  in  English  verse,  by  several  hands  ;  two 
of  which,  viz.  "  Canace  to  Macareus,"  and  "  Dido 
to  iEneas,"  were  by  Dryden,  who  also  wrote  the 
preface.  In  1682,  came  out  his  "  Religio  Laici," 
designed  as  a  defence  of  revealed  religion,  and  of  the 
excellence  and  authority  of  the  scriptures  against  deists, 
papists,  &c.  Soon  after  the  accession  of  King  James  II. 
however,  our  author  changed  his  religion  for  that  of  the 
church  of  Rome,  and  wrote  two  pieces  in  vindication  of 
the  tenets  of  that  church,  viz.  "  A  Defence  of  the  pa- 
pers written  by  the  late  King,'*  found  in  his  strong  box  ; 
and  the  celebrated  poem,  afterwards  answered  by 
Lord  Halifax,  entitled  ^^The  Hind  and  the  Panther." 
By  this  extraordinary  step,  he  not  only  involved  him- 
self in  controversy,  and  incurred  much  ridicule  from 
cotemporary  wits;  but,  on  the  completion  of  the  re- 
volution, being,  on  account  of  his  newly  chosen  re- 
ligion, disqualified  from  bearing  any  office  under  the 
government,  he  was  stripped  of  the  laurel,  which,  to 
his  still  greater  mortification,  was  bestowed  on  Rich- 
ard Flecknoe,  a  man,  whom  he  considered  as  his 
greatest  enemy.  This  circumstance  occasioned  his 
writing  the  very  severe  poem  called,  "Mac  Fleck- 
noe." 

Mr.  Dryden's  circumstances  had  never  ben  af- 
fluent ;  hence  as  he  was  now  deprived  of  the  only 
fixed  income,  which  he  had  ever  enjoyed,  he  found 
himself  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  writing  for  a  mere 
living.  We  consequently  find  him,  from  this  period, 
engaged  in  works  of  labour,  as  well  as  genius,  viz. 
the  translating  the  works  of  others,  and  to  this  necssi- 
Vol.  11,  No.  13.  K2 


*-258  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

iy  of  his,  the  British  nation  stands  indebted  for  some 
of  the  best  translations  extant.  In  the  year  he  lost 
the  laurel,  he  published  the  life  of  St.  Francis  Xavier, 
from  the  French.  In  1693,  came  out  a  translation 
of  Juvenal  and  Persius,  in  the  first  of  which,  he  had 
a  considerable  hand,  and  of  the  latter  the  entire  exe-i 
cution.  In  1697,  was  published  his  English  translation 
of  "  Virgil,**  which  still  does,  and  perhaps,  ever  will, 
stand  foremost  amongst  the  attempts  made  on  that 
author.  The  fugitive  pieces  of  Mr.  Dryden,  such  as 
prologues,  epilogues,  epitaphs,  elegies,  songs  &c. 
are  too  numerous  to  specify  here.  The  greatest  part 
of  them,  however,  are  to  be  found  in  a  collection  of 
miscellanies  in  6  vol.  12mo.  His  last  work  is  what 
is  called  his  "  Fables,**  which  consists  of  many  of  the 
most  interesting  stories  in  Homer,  Ovid,  Boacace, 
and  Chaucer,  translated  or  modernized  in  the  most 
elegant  and  poetical  manner,  together  with  some 
original  pieces,  among  which  is  that  amazing  ode  on 
**St.  Cecilia's  Day,'*  which,  though  written  in  the 
very  decline  of  the  author's  life,  and,  at  a  period  wh^n 
old  age  and  distress  conspired,  as  it  were,  to  damp  his 
poetic  ardour,  and  clip  the  wings  of  fancy,  yet  posses- 
ses so  much  of  both,  as  w^ould  be  sufficient  to  have 
rendered  him  immortal,  had  he  never  written  a  shigle 
line  besides. 

Dryden  married  the  sister  of  the  earl  of  Berkshire, 
by  whom  he  had  three  sons,  Charles,  John,  and 
Henry.  Of  the  eldest  of  these,  there  is  a  circumstance 
related  by  Charles  Wilson,  Esq.  in  his  life  of  Con- 
greve,  which,  appears  so  well  attested,  and  is  in  itself 
of  so  very  extraordinary  a  nature,  that,  though  we,  in 
general,  pay  very  little  attention  to  such  relations,  we 
cannot  avoid  giving  it  a  place.  Dryden,  with  all  his 
understanding,  was  weak  enough  to  be  fond  of  judi- 
cial astrology,  and  used  to  calculate  the  nativity  of 
his  children. 

When  his  lady  was  in  labour  with  his  son  Charles, 
pi|evious  to  his  withdrawmg  from  the  room,,  he  laid 


DICTIONARY.  259 

Wis  watch  on  the  table,  begging  one  of  the  ladies  then 
present,  in  the  most  earnest  manner,  to  take  exact 
notice  of  the  very  minute  the  child  was  born,  which 
she  did  and  acquainted  him  with  it.  About  a  week 
after,  when  his  lady  was  pretty  well  recovered,  Mr. 
Dryden  took  occasion  to  tell  her,  that  he  had  been 
calculating  the  child's  nativity  ;  and  observed  with 
grief,  that  he  was  born  in  an  evil  hour.  "  If  he  lives 
to  arrive  at  the  8th  year,'*  says  he,  "  he  will  go  near 
to  a  violent  death,  on  his  very  birth  day  j  but,  if  he 
should  escape,  as  I  see  but  small  hopes,  he  will  in  the 
23d  year,  be  under  the  very  same  evil  direction;  and, 
if  he  should  escape  that  also,  the  S3d  or  34th,  year  is, 
I  fear"— here,  he  was  interrupted  by  the  immoderate 
grief  of  his  lady,  who  could  no  longer  bear  to  hear 
calamity  prophesied  to  her  son.  The  time  at  last 
came,  and  August  was  the  inauspicious  month,  in 
which  young  Dryden,  was  to  enter  into  the  eight  year 
of  his  age.  Mr.  Dryden  being,  at  that  time,  at  his 
leisure,  was  invited  to  the  country  seat  of  the  carl  of 
Berkshire,  his  brother-in-lav^,  whilst  his  lady  was  in- 
vited to  her  uncle  Mordaunt's,  to  pass  the  remain- 
der of  the  summer.  When  they  came  to  divide  the 
children,  his  wife  would  have  him  take  John,  and 
suffer  her  to  take  Charles;  but  to  this  Mr.  Dryden 
would  by  no  means  consent,  and  they  parted  in  anger, 
he  taking  Charles  with  him,  and  she  being  obliged 
to  be  content  with  John.  When  the  fatal  day  came, 
the  anxiety  of  the  lady's  spirits  occasioned  such  an 
effervescence  of  blood,  as  threw  her  into  so  violent  a 
fever,  that  her  life  was  despaired  of,  till  a  letter  came 
from  Mr.  Dryden,  reproving  her  for  her  womanish 
credulity,  and  assuring  her,  that  her  child  was  well, 
which  recovered  her  spirits,  and,  in  six  weeks  after, 
she  received  an  ecclaircisemcnt  of  the  whole  affair. 
Mr.  Dryden,  either  through  fear  of  being  reckonecl 
superstitious,  or  thinking  it  a  science  beneath  his 
study,  was  extremely  cautious  of  letting  any  one  know, 
that  he  was  a  dealer  in  astrology.     He  could  not. 


260  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

therefore,  excuse  himself,  on  his  son's  anniversary, 
from  a  general  hunting  match,  which  Lord  Berkshire 
had  made,  and  to  which  all  the  adjacent  gentlemen 
were  invited.  When  he  went  out,  he  took  care  to 
set  the  boy  a  double  exercise  in  the  Latin  tongue, 
which  he  taught  his  children  himself,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  gave  him  the  strictest  charge,  not  to  stir  out  of 
the  room  till  his  return,  well  knowing  that  the  task, 
which  he  had  set  him,  would  take  him  up  longer 
time.  Charles  was  performing  his  duty  in  obedience 
to  his  father;  but,  as  fate  would  have  it,  the  stag 
made  towards  the  house  and  the  servants  hastened 
out  to  see  the  sport.  One  of  them  took  young  Dry- 
den  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  out  to  see  it  also,  when 
just  as  they  came  to  the  gate,  the  stag,  being  at  bay 
with  the  dogs,  made  a  bold  push  and  leaped  over  the 
court  wall,  which  was  very  low  and  old,  and  the  dogs 
following,  threw  down  a  part  of  the  wall,  10  yards  in 
length,  under  which  Charles  Dryden  lay  buried.  He 
was  immediately  dug  out;  and  after  6  weeks  lan- 
guishing in  a  dangerous  way,  he  recovered.  Thus 
the  first  part  of  Dryden's  prediction  was  fulfilled. 

In  the  23d  year  of  his  age,  Charles  fell  from  the 
top  of  a  high  tower  belonging  to  the  Vatican,  at 
Rome,  and  was  severely  hurt.  He,  however,  recover- 
ed, but  was  ever  after,  in  a  languishing  sickly  state. 
In  the  S3d  year  of  his  age,  being  then  in  England, 
he  was  unfortunately  drowned,  at  Windsor,  where  he 
had,  along  with  another  gentleman,  swam  twice 
across  the  Thames,  but  returning  a  third  time,  it  was 
supposed  he  was  taken  with  the  cramp,  because  he 
called  out  for  help,  though  too  late.  Thus  the  fa- 
therms  calculation  proved  but  too  prophetical. 

Upon  this  extraordinary  story,  supposing  it  to  be 
true,  in  all  its  partSy  which,  however,  it  is  very  prob- 
able, was  not  the  case,  v^^e  shall  beg  leave  to  trouble 
our  readers  with  a  short  comment.  In  an  age  of 
credulity,  when  multitudes  wasted  their  time  in  cal- 
culating the  nativity  of  children,  and  ctherv/ise  en- 


DICTIONART.  261 

deavouring  to  remove  the  veil  of  futurity,  could  ther^^ 
be  any  thing  more  extraordinary,  in  an  individual, 
out  of  a  vast  multitude,  having  once,  perhaps,  in  a 
century,  conjectured  a  few  things,  which  might 
afterwards  happen,  than  there  is  in  one  of  our  mod- 
ern observers  of  dreams,  who,  perhaps,  out  of  many 
thousands  of  his  visions,  may  occasionally  mark  one, 
which  he  may  afterwards  find,  as  he  thinks,  to  ba 
completely  fulfilled  ?  The  truth  is,  that,  when  an 
occurrence  has  happened  to  such  a  person,  bearing 
the  most  distant  analogy  to  any  thing,  which  he  had 
previously  dreamed,  he  carefully  compares  the  cir- 
cumstances together  and  treasures  them  up  in  his 
memory,  as  an  irrefragable  proof  of  the  prophetic 
nature  of  dreams,  whilst  millions  of  foolish  vagaries 
and  chimerical  fancies  which,  at  other  times,  present 
themselves  to  his  imagination,  are  allowed  to  pass 
without  the  smallest  observation. 

Providence,  in  concealing  from  mortals  the  book  of 
fate,  has  wisely  removed  from  human  roresight  the 
appointed  hour  both  of  prosperity  and  adversity. 
Could  we  ascertain  the  precise  time  we  are  to  expe- 
rience the  former,  every  exertion,  on  our  part,  would 
be  unnecessary,  and  our  good  fortune,  by  long  antici- 
pation, would  lose  its  relish.  On  the  other  hand, 
were  we  able  to  prognosticate  the  appointed  hour 
of  calamity  and  death,  the  thought  of  impending 
evils,  which  it  v^^as  beyond  our  power  to  prevent, 
would  fill  our  minds  with  unavailing  despondency, 
and  render  the  numerous  ills  of  life,  which  we  now 
bear  with  so  little  patience,  still  more  calamitous  and 
unsupportable.  Instead,  therefore,  of  these  futile  and 
nugatory  attempts  to  dive  into  futurity,  the  knowledge 
of  which,  whilst  it  would  be  injurious  to  some,  could 
be  of  no  real  advantage  to  any,  let  us  endeavour  to 
conduct  ourselves,  at  all  times  as  in  the  presence  of 
an  omniscient  creator,  to  whom  we  are  accountable 
for  all  our  actions,  and  this  we  may  assert,  without 
usurping  the  province  of  the  preacher,  will  be  found 


262  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

to  be  the  only  safe  course,  by  which  mortals  can  be 
enabled  to  pass  through  life  with  true  dignity  and 
fortitude,  and  to  encounter  even  death  itself  without| 
fear. 

But  to  return  to  our  subject.  Mr.  Dryden,  after  a 
long  life  harrassed  v/ith  the  most  laborious  of  all  fa- 
tigues, viz.  that  of  the  mind,  and  continually  made 
anxious  by  distress  and  difHcuity,  departed  this  life 
on  the  first  of  May  1701,  in  the  71st.  year  of  his  age, 
and  was  buried  in  Westminster  abbey,  where  an  ele- 
gant monument  was  afterwards  erected  to  his  mem- 
ory by  Sheffield  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

Mr.  Dryden's  character  has  been  very  dIiFerently< 
drawn  by  different  hands,  some  of  which  have  exalt 
ed  it  to  the  highest  degree  of  commendation,  anc 
others  debased  it  by  the  severest  censure.  The  lat- 
ter, however,  we  must  charge  to  that  strong  spirit  of 
party,  which  prevailed,  during  great  part  of  Dryden's 
time,  and  ought,  therefore,  to  be  taken  with  great  al- 
lowances. Were  we,  indeed,  to  form  a  judgment  o' 
the  author  from  some  of  his  dramatic  writings,  we 
should,  perhaps,  be  apt  to  conclude  him  a  man  of  the 
most  licentious  morals,  many  of  his  comedies  con- 
taining a  great  share  of  looseness,  even  extending  to 
obscenity.  In  his  vindication,  however,  it  may  be 
observed,  that  the  manners  of  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  were  much  grosser,  or  perhaps  we  should  rather 
say  more  simple  than  they  are  at  present  ;  and  that 
even  in  the  highest  circles,  and  in  the  company  of  the 
most  elegant  women,  many  things  were  said,  without 
giving  oifence  to  the  most  fastidious,  which  would 
now  be  reckoned  highly  indelicate  and  improper. 

But  it  will  not,  be  so  easy  to  vindicate  him  from 
the  charge  of  unsteadiness,  in  his  political  and  reli- 
gious principles,  both  of  which  he  appears  to  have 
been  desirous  of  accommodating  to  the  several  revo- 
lutions, which  took  place  in  church  and  state.  This, 
however,  say  his  apologists,  might,  in  some  measure, 
have  been  owing  to  that  natural  timidity  and  diffi- 


DICTIONARY.^  263 

dence  In  his  disposition,  which  almost  all  writers 
seem  to  agree  in  his  possessing.  Congreve,  whose 
authority  cannot  be  suspected,  has  given  us  such  an 
account  of  him,  as  makes  him  appear  no  less  amiable 
in  his  private  character  as  a  man,  than  he  was  illus- 
trious in  his  public  one  as  a  poet.  In  the  former 
light,  that  gentleman  represents  him,  in  every  respect 
not  only  blameless,  but  amiable;  and  "as  to  his  wri- 
tings,'* says  he,  "  no  man  hath  written  in  our  lan- 
guage, so  much  and  so  various  matter,  and  in  so 
various  manners  so  well.  Another  thing,  I  may  say 
was  very  peculiar  to  him ;  which  is,  that  his  parts  did 
not  decline  with  his  years,  but  that  he  was  an  improv- 
ing writer  to  the  last,  even  to  near  70  years  of  age. 
He  was  equally  excellent  in  verse  as  in  prose.  His 
prose  had  all  the  clearness  imaginable  together  with 
all  the  nobleness  of  expression,  all  the  graces  and 
ornament  proper  and  peculiar  to  it,  without  deviating 
into  the  language  or  diction  ot  poetry.  1  have  heard 
him  frequently  own  with  pleasure,  that,  if  he  had  any 
talent  for  English  prose,  it  was  owing  to  his  having 
often  read  the  writings  of  the  great  Archbishop 
Tiliotson.  His  versification  and  his  numbers  he 
could  learn  from  nobody,  for  he^first  possessed  those 
talents  in  perfection,  in  the  English  language.  In 
his  poems,  his  diction  is,  whenever  his  subject  re- 
quires it,  so  sublimely,  and  so  truly  poetical,  that  its 
essence,  like  that  of  pure  gold,  cannot  be  destroyed. 
What  he  has  done  in  any  one  species,  or  distinct 
kind  of  writing,  v/ould  have  been  sufficient  to  have 
acquired  him  a  great  name.  If  he  had  written  no- 
thing but  his  prefaces,  or  nothing  but  his  songs,  or 
his  prologues,  each  of  them  would  have  entitled 
him  to  the  preference  and  distinction  of  excelling  in 
his  kind." 


264*  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAI, 

DUCK,  (Stephen),  a  very  extraordinary  person, 
who,  from  being  originally  a  common  labourer,  be* 
came  first  a  poet  and  then  a  parson,  was  born  ia 
England  about  the  beginning  of  the  last  century. 
After  he  had  attained,  at  a  village  school,  the  first 
principles  of  his  education,  which  reached  no  farther 
than  to  enable  him  to  read  and  write  English,  he 
v/as  successively  engaged  in  the  several  lowest  em^ 
ployments  of  a  country  life.  .t  i 

It  is  said,  however,  that  he,  even  from  his  infan- 
cy, discovered  a  great  fondness  for  rhyming,  and, 
that,  as  he  grew  up,  he  used  frequently  to  amuse 
himself,  whilst  at  work,  in  turning  his  thoughts  into 
verse.  His  talent  in  this  way  greatly  excited  the  ad- 
miration of  his  brother  cottagers,  to  comply  with 
whose  solicitations,  as  well  as  to  gratify  his  own 
vanity,  he  was,  at  length,  induced  to  commit  some 
of  his  effusions  to  writing.  Thus  his  fame  began  to 
spread,  and  he  became  the  subject  of  general  conver- 
sation throughout  the  neighbourhood. 

In  this  happy,  though  humble  situation,  it  was 
his  fate,  or  rather  misfortune  to  attract  the  attention 
of  queen  Caroline,  the  spouse  of  George  II.  whoj 
because  he  had  discovered  certain  literary  and  poeti 
cal  tendencies,  which,  in  a  man  of  common  classsi- 
cal  education,  would  not  have  been  considered  as 
above  mediocrity,  took  him  under  her  immediate 
protection,  and  determined  to  push  him  forward  in 
the  world.  He  was,  therefore,  admitted  into  holy 
orders,  and  soon  after  preferred  to  the  living  of  By- 
fleet,  in  Surry.  His  abilities  were,  however,  much 
more  conspicuous,  and  he  himself  more  happy,  ir 
his  primitive  station,  than  in  his  advancement,  thougl: 
it  is  said,  he  was  considerably  followed  after  as  i 
preacher. 

Had  Mr.  Duck  been  promoted  from'  the  barn  and 
stable  to  the  post  of  a  steward,  or  a  rural  superin- 
tendant,  his  ambition  and  interest  would  have  beer 
gratified  in  a  line  of  life,  to  which  his  first  hopes  anc 


DICTIONARY.  265 

earliest  habits  were  formed ;  had  a  farm  of  fifty  pounds 
sterling  a  year,  been  stocked  and  presented  to  him, 
it  would  have  been  afBuence,  when  compared  with 
the  original  wages  of  his  situation;  but  born  and 
transplanted,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression, 
by  the  violent  hand  of  patronage,  he  was  obliged  to 
associate  with  men  every  way  his  superior  in  acquire- 
ments, and  felt  himself  unable  to  support  that  repu- 
tation, which  the  notice  of  a  queen  had,  in  some  de- 
gree, created  for  him. 

Thus  that  pride,  which  amongst  his  original  as- 
sociates had  elevated  him  to  the  dignity  of  "  a  giant 
among  the  pigmies,  a  one-eyed  monarch  among  the 
blind,"  received  a  mortal  wound,  and  falling  at  length 
into  a  low  spirited  melancholy  way,  he,  in  a  fit  of 
lunacy,  flung  himself  into  the  Thames  and  was 
drowned,  in  June  1756. 

DUNS,  (John),  commonly  called  Duns  Scotus,  a 
celebrated  theologian  of  the  order  of  St.  Francis, 
was  born  in  the  year  1274,  but  whether  in  England, 
Scotland  or  Ireland,  hath  long  been  a  matter  of  dis- 
pute amongst  the  learned  of  each  nation.  We  are 
told  that  when  a  boy,  he  became  accidentally  known 
to  two  Franciscan  friars,  who  finding  him  to  be  a 
youth  of  very  extraordinary  capacity,  took  him  to 
their  convent  at  Newcastle,  and  afterwards  persuaded 
him  to  become  one  of  their  fraternity.  From  thence 
he  was  sent  to  Oxford,  where  he  was  made  fellow 
of  Merton  college,  and  we  are  informed,  that  his 
fame  was  so  great,  that  not  less  than  30,000  students 
attendedthere  from  different  quarters  to  hear  his  lec- 
tures. 

In  the  year  1394,  he  went  to  Paris,  where  he  so 
distinguished  himsslf  by  the  acuteness  of  his  parts, 
and  especially  by  his  manner  of  disputing,  that  he 
acquired  the  name  of  "  Doctor  Subtilis,"  i.e.  "The 
Subtile  Doctor."     Here  he  was  honoured  first  with 

Vol.  II.  No.  13.  L2 


266  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

the  degree  of  Bachelor,  then  of  Doctor  of  Divinity; 
and  in  1307  was  appointed  regent  of  the  divinity 
school'     During  his   residence  at  Paris,  the  famous 
controversy  about  the  wimaculaie  conception  of  the 
Virgin  Mary  arose.     Albertus  Magnus  maintained,: 
that  she  was  born  in  original  sin :  Scotus  advanced' 
2G0  arguments  in  favour  of  the  contrary  opinion,  and- 
convinced  the  university  of  Paris,  that  she  was  really 
conceived  immaculate.    '^Fhis  important  subject,  how-^ 
ever,  continued   to  be  disputed  till  the  year    1496, 
after  the   council  of  Basil,  when  the  university  of 
Paris  made  a  decree  that  no  student,  who  did  not 
believe  the  immaculate  conception,  should  be  admit- 
ted to  a  degree. 

Our  author  had  not  been  long  at  Paris,  when  the 
general  of  his  order,  wishing  that  the  benefit  of  his 
vast  talents  should  be  diffused  as  widely  as  possible^ 
ordered  him  to  remove  to  Cologne,  where  he  was  re- 
ceived with  great  pomp  and  ceremony  by  the  magis- 
trates and  nobles  of  that  city;  but  here  he  died  of  an 
apoplexy  soon  after  his  arrival,  in  the  year  1308,  and 
in  the  34th  year  of  his  age.  Some  w-riters  have  re- 
ported that  Scotus  was  buried  in  an  epileptic  lit,  and, 
that  upon  removing  his  bones,  he  appeared  to  have 
turjwd  himself  in  his  coftin. 

This  doctor  subtilis,  was  doubtless  one  of  the  most 
complete  wranglers  of  his  time,  admirably  well  versed 
in  scholastic  divinity,  and  a  most  indefatigable  writer; 
but,  however  important  his  huge  volumes  might  have 
been  formerly  reckoned  to  society,  the  opinion  of  the 
w^orld  is  so  different  at  present,  that  it  would  be, 
perhaps,  difficult  to  find  an  individual,  who  would 
have  sufficient  patience  to  read  a  single  page  of  them. 
He  was  the  author  of  a  new  sect  of  school  men  called 
*S(:6>/m75' who  opposed  the  opinions  of  the  Thomists, 
so  called  from  St.  Thomas  Aquinas.  The  last  edition 
of  his  writings,  was  published  at  Lyons  in  1630,  in  12 
vol's  folio. 


DICTIONARY.  267 

DUPIN,  (Lewis  Ellis)  a  learned  doctor- of  the 
Sorbonne,  and  one  of  the  greatest  critics  of  his  time, 
especially  in  ecclesiastical  matters  was  born  at  Paris,  in 
1657,  After  having,  with  great  success,  gone  through 
his  course  of  grammar  learning,  an  J  philosophy,  in  the 
college  of  Harcourt,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  service 
of  the  church,  and  to  render  himself  better  qualified 
for  the  duties  of  his  important  profession,  he  employed 
a  great  part  of  his  time  in  the  reading  of  councils, 
fathers,  and  ecclesiastical  writers;  and  being  found,  at 
his  examination,  amongst  the  first  rank,  he  was  admit- 
ted doctor  at  the  Sorbonne  in  168 4. 

He  than  began  to  his  "  Bibliotheque  Universelle 
des  auteurs  Ecclesiastiques,"  the  first  volume  of  which 
appeared  in  1686;  but  as  he  had  treated  some  ec- 
clesiastical writers,  with  considerable  freedom,  he 
gave  such  offence,  that  M.  de  Harlay  archbishop  of 
Paris,  obliged  him  to  retract  many  propositions  and 
suppressed  the  work.  He  was  soon  after,  however^ 
permitted  to  carry  it  on,  by  only  making  a  small 
change  in  the  title  of  it  from  "  Bibliotheque  Univer- 
selle" to  '*  Bibliotheque  Nouvelle."  This  great  work 
continued  in  several  successive  volumes,  and,  though 
it  was  fully  sufficient  to  occupy  the  life  of  an  ordinary 
man,  it  did  not  hinder  Dupin  from  obliging  the  world 
with  many  other  works,  the  chief  of  which  are,  1. 
**  Prolegomena  to  the  Old  and  New  Testament,"  by 
way  of  supplement  to  the  "  Bibliotheque."  2.  "  A 
Bibliotheque  of  authors  separate  from  the  communion 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  who  flourished  in  the  I7tli 
century."  3.  "  A  Treatise  on  the  ancient  discipline  of 
the  church."  4.  "  Notes  upon  the  Psalms  and  the  Pen- 
tateuch." 5.  "A  Defence  of  the  Censure,  which  the 
Faculty  of  Theology  at  Paris  passed  upon  Father  Le 
Comte's  Memoirs  of  China''  6.  "  An  Analysis  of  the 
Apocalypse."  7.  "  A  Profane  History."  8.  "  A  Me- 
thod of  studying  Divinity,"  &;c.  &c.  &c. 

Dupin  was,  Jikewise,  for  many  years.  Professor  of 
Philosophy  in  the  Royal  college,  and  died  at  Paris^ 


268  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


in  1719,  aged  sixty-two  jears.  He  was  a  man  of 
prodigious  reading,  and  possessed  of  a  happy  facility 
in  committing  his  thoughts  to  writing.  He  had  also 
an  uncommon  talent  in  analyzing  the  works  of  aa 
author,  which  makes  his  Ecclesiastical  Bibliotheque 
so  highly  valuable. 


DYER,  (Samuel),  the  son  of  an  eminent  jewel- 
ler, was  born  in  London  about  the  year  1725,  and 
designed  by  his  parents,   both  of  whom  were  reli-i 
gious  people,  for  the  dissenting  ministry.     After  be- 
ing  instructed  in  the  first  principles  of  learning,  in 
London,  he  was  sent  to  Dr.  Doddridge's  academy  atj 
Northampton,  and  having  finished  his  studies  in  that 
seminary,  he  was  removed  to  Glasgow,  where,  un- 
der Dr.  Hutcheson,  he  was  instructed  in  the  writings; 
of  the  Greek  moralists,   and  went  through  several 
courses  of  ethics,  and  metaphysics.      To  complete 
'this  plan  of  a  learned  education,  the  elder  Mr.  Dyer, 
by  the  advice  of  his  pastor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Chandler, 
sent  his  son  to  Leyden,  with  a  view  to  his  improve-' 
ment  in  the  Hebrew  literature,  under  Schultens,  a  ce 
jebrated  professor  in  that  university.     After  two  years . 
stay  abroad,  Mr.  D3^er  returned,  eminently  qualified 
for  the  exercise  of  that  profession,  to  which  his  studies 
had  been  directed,  and  great  were  the  hopes  of  his 
friends,  that  he  would  become  one  of  its  ornaments. 
To  speak  of  his  attainments  in  knowledge,  he  was 
an  excelent  classical  scholar,  a  great  mathematician 
and  natural  philosopher,  well  versed  in  the  Hebrew, 
and  master  of  the  Latin,  French  and  Italian  langua-.: 
ges.     Added  to  these  endowments,  he  was  of  atem* 
per  so  mild,  and  in  his  conversation  and  demeanour 
so  modest  and  unassuming,  that  he  engaged  the  at« 
tention  and  affection  of  all  around  him. 

h  was  now  expected  that  Mr.  Dyer  would  attach 
Mmself  to  the  profession,  for  which  sojiberal  and  ex- 
pensive an  education  was  intended  to  qualify  him,  and 


I 


DICTIONARY.  269 

that  be  would,  under  all  the  discouragements  that 
attend  nonconformity,  appear  as  a  public  teacher, 
aod  by  preaching,  give  a  specimen  of  his  talents; 
and  this  was  the  more  wished,  as  he  was  a  constant 
attendant  on  divine  worship,  and  the  whole  pi  his 
behaviour  suited  to  such  a  character.  But  being 
pressed  by  several  of  his  friends,  he  discovered  an 
aversion  from  the  undertaking,  which  was,  at  first, 
conceived  to  arise  from  modesty,  but,  some  tiinej 
after,  found  to  have  sprung  from  another  cause. 

In  this  seeming  state  of  suspence,  his  friend  Pr. 
Chandler  found  out  for  him  an  employment  exactly 
suitable  to  his  talents.  Dr.  Daniel  Williams,  a  dis- 
senting minister,  who  had,  by  marriage,  become  the 
owner  of  a  great  estate,  and  was  the  founder  of  a  li- 
brary for  the  use  of  those  of  his  profession,  by  his 
will  had  directed,  that  certain  controversial,  and 
other  religious  tracts  of  his  writings,  should  be  trans- 
lated into  Latin,  and  printed  the  second  year  after  his 
death,  and  five  hundred  of  each  given  away,  and  this 
request  to  be  repeated,  when  that  number  was  dis- 
posed of. 

This  part  of  his  will  had  remained  unexecuted 
from  about  the  vear  1715,  and  Dr.  Chandler  beinij 
a  trustee  for  the  performance  of  it,  and  empowered 
to  offer  an  equivalent  to  any  one,  that  he  should  think 
equal  to  the  undertaking,  proposed  it  to  Mr.  Dyer, 
and  he  accepted  it ;  but  small  was  his  progress  in  it, 
before  it  began  to  grow  irksome,  and  the  completing 
of  the  translation  was  referred  to  some  one  less  averse 
from  labour  than  himself. 

Having  thus  got  rid  of  an  employment,  to  which 
no  persuasion  of  his  friends,  nor  prospects  of  future 
advantage  could  reconcile  him,  he  became,  as  it  were, 
emancipated  from  puritanical  forms  and  modes  of 
living.  He  commenced  a  man  of  the  world,  and, 
with  a  sober  and  temperate  deliberation,  resolved  on 
a  participation  of  its  pleasures  and  enjoyments.  His 
company,  though  he  was  rather  a  silent  than  a  talka- 


270  KEW  BlOGJlAP'ttlCAL  ^ 

tive  man,  was  courted  by  many,  and  he  had  frequent 
invitations  to  dinners,  to  suppers,  and  to  card  parties. 
By  these  means,  he  insensibly  became  a  votary  of  j 
pleasure,  and  to  justify  his  choice,  had  reasoned  him-j 
self  into  a  persuasion,  that,  not  only  in  the  moral  go- J 
vernment  of  the  world, but  in  human  manners,  through 
all   the  changes  and  fluctuations  of  fashion  and  ca- 
price, "  whatever  is,  is  right."     With  this,  and  other  ^ 
opinions  tending  equally  to  corrupt  his  mind,  it  must  i 
be  supposed,  that  he  began  to  grow  indifferent  to  the^ 
strict  practice  of  religion,  and  the  event  shewed  itself* 
in  a  gradual  declination  from  the  exercise  of  it,  and 
his  easy  compliance  with  invitations  to  Sunday  eve- 
ning parties,  in  which  mere  conversation  was  not  the 
chief  amusement. 

In  his  discourses,  he  was  exxeedingly  close  and  re- 
served ;  it  was  nevertheless  to  be  remarked  of  him, 
that  he  looked  upon  the  restraints  on  a  life  of  plea- 
sure with  an  unapproving  eye.  He  had  an  exquisite 
palate,  and  had  improved  his  relish  for  meats  and 
drinks  up  to  such  a  degree  of  refinement,  that  he 
was  once  found  in  a  fit  of  melancholy,  occasioned  by 
a  discovery,  that  he  had  lost  his  taste  for  olives.  He 
was  a  man  of  deep  reflection,  and  very  able  in  con- 
versation on  most  topics,  and  after  he  had  determin- 
ed on  his  course  of  life,  which  was  to  be  of  no  pro- 
fession^ but  to  become  a  gentleman  at  large,  h« 
5eemed  to  adopt  the  sentiments  of  a  man  of  fashion. 
In  a  visit  to  France,  he  met  with  a  book  entitled, 
"  Les  Moeurs,"  with  which  he  at  last,  became  sa 
greatly  dehghted,  that,  after  a  conflict  with  his  na- 
tural indolence,  in  which  he  came  off  victor,  he 
formed  a  resolution  to  translate  it  into  English  ;  but 
after  a  small  progress  in  the  work,  the  enemy  rallied 
and  defeated  him.  His  printer  had  worked  off  only 
a  few  sheets,  when  Mr.  Dyer*s  stock  of  copy  was  ex- 
hausted and  his  bookseller  was  under  the  necessity  of 
getting  the  translation  finished  by  another  hand. 

Dyer's  support  in  the  idle  way  of  life  he  had  made 


DICTTOITARY.  2?  I 

choice  of,  was  the  produce  of  a  patrimony  in  the 
funds,  which  could  not  be  great,  his  father  from 
whom  he  derived  it,  having  left  besides  him,  a  vvi- 
dow,  an  elder  son  and  a  daughter.  Dr,  Johnson  and 
others,  that  he  might  be  getting  something,  strongly 
pressed  him  to  write  the  life  of  Erasmus  ;  but  he 
could  not  be  induced  to  undertake  it,  A  work  of 
less  labour,  but  less  worthy  of  him,  he  was,  howe4 
ver,  prevailed  on  to  engage  in  ;  this  was  a  revision 
of  the  old  translation  of  "  Plutarch's  Lives,"  by  sev- 
eral hands.  He  undertook,  and  with  heavy  comi^ 
plaints  of  the  labour  of  his  task,  completed  it,  and 
had  for  his  reward,  the  sum  of  888  dollars. 

While  he  was  a  member  of  the  Literary,  club, 
Johnson  suspected,  that  his  religious  principles,  for 
which  he  at  first  honoured  him,  were  giving  way, 
and  it  was  whispered  that  Mr.  Dyer's  religion  was 
that  of  Socrates.  What  farther  advances  he  made  in 
Theism,  are  unknown ;  but  he  is  said  to  have  denied 
in  the  philosophical  sense  oi  the  term,  the  freedon  of. 
the  human  will,  and  he  settled  in  materialism  and  its 
consequent  tenets. 

As  all  his  determinations  were  slow  and  deliberate,' 
and  seemed  to  be  the  result  of  reason  and  reflection, 
the  change  in  his  principles  and  conduct  here  noted 
was  gradual.  Of  this  the  first  symptoms  were  an 
imbecility  to  resist  any  temptation  abroad  on  a  Suiii?' 
day  evening,  that  should  ease  him  of  the  trouble' ot 
such  exercises,  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  perform 
in  the  family  of  his  mother,  and  an  eager  curiosity 
in  the  perusal  of  books,  not  merely  of  entertainment, 
but  of  such,  as  together  with  the  knowledge  of  the 
world,  furnished  his  mind  with  such  palliatives  aft 
vice,  as  made  him  half  a  convert  to  it.  ■..:.': n- 

W^hile  his  mind  was  in  this  state  of  trepidation, "a. 
young  gentleman,   who   had  been   a  fellow  student 
with  him  at  Leyden,  arrived  in  England,  disordered 
in  his  health,  of  whom  and  whose  conversation  Mr, 
Dyer  became  so  enamoured,  that  for  the  sake  of  keep- 


2i2  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ing  his  company,  he  was  almost  lost  to  all  the  rest  of 
his  friends.     To  those  with  whom  he  Vv^as  most  inti- 
mate, he  would,  notwithstanding  the  closeness  of  his-j 
nature  describe  him  and  display  his  attractions,  which, 
as  he  represented  them,  were  learning,   wit,  polite- 
ness, elegance,  particularly  in  articles  of  dress,  free 
and  open  manners,  a  genteel  figure,  and  other  per- 
sonal charms,  which  rendered  him  the  delight  of  th 
female  sex.     Jt  was  a  question,  which  some  of  thos 
with  whom  he  was  thus  open,  would  frequently  ask 
him  "  What  are  the  most  of  these  qualifications  to 
you,  Mr.  Dyer,  who  are  a  man  of  a  different  cha- 
racter?    You,  who  know  the  value  of  wisdom,  and 
have  a  mind  fraught  with  knowledge,  which  you  are 
capable  of  applying  to  many  beneficial  purposes,  can 
never  be  emulous  of  those   distinctions,  which  dis- 
criminate a  man  of  pleasure  from  a  philosopher:"  his 
answers  to  which  served  only  to  shew  that  his  judg*f 
nicnt  was  corrupted  ;  the  habitation   of  his  friend, 
whom  he  thus  visited,  was  a  brothel,  and  his  disease, 
such  as  those  seldom  escape,  who  frequent  houses  of 
lewd  resort.     The  solicitudes,  which  the  females,  in 
that   place,  shewed  for  the  recovery  of  his  friend,, 
their  close  attendance  on  him,  and  assiduity  in  ad-| 
ministering  to  him  his  medicines,  and  supplying  all 
his  wants, he  foolishly  attributed  to  genuine  love;  and 
seemed  almost  to  envy  that  power  in  him,  which  could 
interest   so  many  young  females  in  the  restoration  o! 
his  health. 

What  effect  these  visits,  and  the  blandishments  t 
which,  as  often  as  he  made  them,  he  was  a  witness 
had  upon  Mr.  Dyer,  w^e  know  not,  save  that  to  de- 
feat the  enchantments  of  these  syrens,  he  practise^! 
none  of  the  arts  of  Ulysses  ;  they  on  the  contrary, 
seemed  to  have  wrought  in  him  an  opinion,  that 
those  mistook  their  interests  and  shewed  their  igno- 
rance of  human  life,  who  abstained  from  any  pleasure 
that  disturbed  not  the  quiet  of  families,  or  the  order 
of  society  i  that  natural  appetites  required  gratifica- 


1 


DICTIONARY.  273 

tion,  and  were  not  to  be  dismissed  without  it ;  that; 
the  indulgence  of  the  irascible  passions  alone  wa^^ 
vice,  and  that  to  live  in  peace  with  mankind, 
and,  in  a  temper  to  do  good  offices,  was  the  most  es- 
sential part  of  our  duty. 

Having  fairly  admitted  these  convenient  principles 
of  religion  into  his  mind,  he  settled  into  a  sober  sen- 
sualist, in  a  perfect  consistency  with  which  charac- 
ter, he  was  content  to  eat  the  bread  of  idleness,  lay- 
ing himself  open  to  the  invitations  of  those,  who 
kept  the  best  tables,  and  contracting  intimacies  with 
men,  not  only  of  opposite  parties,  but  with  some 
who  seemed  to  have  abandoned  all  principles,  whe- 
ther religious,  political,  or  moral.  The  houses  of  many 
such,  in  succession  were  his  home,  and  for  the  gra-* 
tifications  of  a  well  spread  table,  choice  wines,  vari- 
ety of  company,  card  parties,  and  a  participatioa 
in  all  domestic  amusements,  and  recreations,  the 
owners  thought  themselves  recompensed  by  his  con- 
versation and  the  readiness  with  which  he  accommo- 
dated himself  to  all  about  him.  Nor  was  he  ever  at 
a  loss  for  reasons  to  justify  this  abuse  of  his  parts,  or 
waste  of  his  time  ;  he  looked  upon  the  practice  of 
the  world  as  the  rule  of  life,  and  thought  it  did  not 
become  an  individual  to  resist  it. 

By  the  death  of  his  mother,  his  brother  and  sister, 
all  of  whom  he  survived,  he  became  possessed  of 
about  36000  dollars  in  the  funds,  which,  as  he  was 
inclined  to  no  extravagance,  it  seemed  highly  impro- 
bable, that  he  would  ever  be  tempted  to  dissipate ; 
but  he  had  contracted  an  intimacy  with  some  persons 
of  desperate  fortunes,  who  were  dealers  in  India  stock, 
at  a  time,  when  the  affairs  of  the  company  were  in  a 
state  of  fluctuation;  and,  though  from  his  indolent 
temper  of  mind  and  ignorance  of  business,  the  last 
man  to  be  suspected  of  yielding  to  such  delusions, 
he  first  invested  all  he  had  in  that  precarious  fund, 
and  next  became  a  candidate  for  the  office  of  a  director 
of  the  company,  but  failed  in  the  attempt.     After 

Vol.  XL  No.  13.  M2 


274  KEW  BIOGRAPHlCAt 

thisj  he  entered  into  engagements  for  the  purcha.,. 
or  sale  of  stock,  and,  by  violating  them,  made  ship- : 
wreck  of  his  honour.     Lastly,  he  made  other  con-^< 
tracts  of  the  like  kind,  to  the  performance  whereof ' 
he  was  strictly  bound  ;  these  turned  out  against  him 
and  swallowed  up  the  whole  of  his  fortune.     About 
the  time  of  this  event,  which  we  believe,  was  about 
the  year  1772,  he  was  seized  with  a  quinsey,  which 
he  was  assured  was  mortal  ;  but  whether  he  resign* 
ed  himself  to  the   slow  operation  of  that  disease,  or 
precipitated  his  end  by  an  act  of  self  violence,  was 
not  clearly  ascertained  by  his  friends.     He  left  not  in 
money  or  effects  sufficient  to  defray  the  expence  of  a 
decent  funeral,  and  the   last  office  of  humanity  to- 
wards him  was  performed  by  one  of  these,  who  had 
been  accessary  to  his  ruin. 

Thus  perished  Mr.  Dyer,  a  gentkman,  who,  both 
from  talents  and  education,  was  eminently  qualified, 
to  have  performed  his  part  in  society  with  dignity 
and  reputation  ;  but,  who,  by  unfortunately  relin- 
quishing the  path  of  virtue  in  his  more  early  years,, 
devoted  his  days  to  a  life  of  inglorious  inactivity.. 

DYER,  (John)  an  English  poet,  the  son  of  Ro~ 
bert  Dyer,  Esq.  a  Welsh  solicitor,  was  born  in  1700- 
After  having  gone  through  the  usual  course  of  edu-^ 
cation  at  Westminster  school,  he  was  called  home  ta, 
be  instructed  in  his  father's  profession.     His  genius, 
however,  led  him  a  different  way, .for  besides  hh 
early  taste  for  poetry,  having  a  passion  no  less  strong 
for  the  arts  of  design,  he  determined  to  apply  him- 
self to  painting.     With  this  view,  having  studied  a| 
while  under  a  master,  he  became,  as  he  tells  us,  an 
itinerant  painter,  and  about   1727,  painted  Grongar 
Hill.     Being  probably  dissatisfied  with  his  own  pro- 
ficiency, he  made  the  tour  of  Italy,  where,  besides 
the  usual  study  of  the  remains  of  antiquity,  and  the ' 
works  of  the  great  roasters,  he  frequently  spent  whole 


DICTIONARY.  275 

days,  in  the  country  about  Rome,  and  Florence, 
sketching  these  picturesque  prospects  with  facility 
and  spirit.  On  his  return  to  England,  he  published 
the  "  Ruins  of  Rome,'*  in  3  740;  but  soon  found  that 
he  could  not  reHsh  a  town  life,  nor  submit  to  the  as- 
siduity required  in  his  profession.  As  his  turn  of 
mind  was  rather  serious,  and  his  conduct  and  beha- 
viour always  irreproachable,  he  was  advised  by  his 
friends  to  enter  into  holy  orders,  and  was  accordingly 
ordained  by  the  bishop  of  Lincoln. 

His  ecclesiastical  provision  was  a  long  time  but 
slender;  but  about  the  year  1752,  he  met  with  con- 
siderable preferment'.  In  1757,  he  published  '*  The 
Fleece,''  his  greatest  poetical  work,  but  did  not  long 
outlive  that  publication^  for  a  consumptive  disorder, 
with  whioJi  he  had  long  struggled,  carried  him  off  in 
1758. 

Mr.  Dyer's  chara^cter  as  a  writer  has  been  fixed  by 
these  poems  "  Grongar  Hill,"  "The  Ruins  of  Rome," 
and  "  The  Fleece,"  wherein  a  poetical  imagination, 
perfectly  original,  a  natural  simplicity  connected 
with,  and  often  productive  of  the  true  sublime,  and 
the  warmest  sentiments  of  benevolence  and  virtue, 
have  been  universally  observed  and  admired.  These 
pieces,  which  made  their  appearance  separately  in  his 
life  time,  were  after  his  death,  collected  and  publish- 
ed in  one  vol.  8vo.  1761,  to  which  is  prefixed  a  short 
account  of  himself. 


^* 


ELLIOT,  (George  Augustus)  I^rd  Heathfield^ 
was  the  youngest  son  of  the  late  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot,  Bar 
ronet  of  Stobbs,  in  Roxburghshire,  Scotland,  and  was 
born  about  the  year  1718.  He  received  the  first  ru- 
diments of  his  education,  under  a  private  tutor,  and, 
at  an  early  periooof  his  life,  was  sent  to  the  university 
of  Leyden,  where  he  made  considerable  progress  in 
classical  learning  and  spoke  with  fluency  and  eleganc^^ 
the  German  and  French  languages.     Being  designed 


276  MEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

for  a  military  life,  he  was  sent  from  thence  to  the 
celebrated i^co/d-  Royal  du  Genie  Miliiaire^  conducted 
by  the  great  Vauban,  at  la  Fere  in  Picardy,  where  he 
laid  the  foundation  of  what  he  so  conspicuously  exhi- 
bited at  the  defence  of  Gibraltar.  He  completed 
his  military  course  on  the  continent  by  a  tour,  for  the 
purpose  of  seeing  in  practice  what  he  had  studied  in 
theory,  and  as  Prussia  was  the  model  for  military  dis- 
cipline, he  continued  for  some  time,  as  a  volunteer  in 
that  service. 

Mr.  Elliot  returned  in  the  17th  year  of  his  age  to 
Scotland,  his  native  country,   and  was   in  the  same 
year,  1735,  introduced  by  his  father.  Sir  Gilbert,  to 
lieutenant-colonel  Peers  of  the  23d  regiment  of  foot, 
then  lying  in  Edinburgh,  as  a  youth  anxious  to  bear 
arms  for  the  defence  of  his  king  and  countr)^   He  was 
accordingly  entered  as  a  volunteer  in  that  regiment, 
where  he  continued  for  upward-sof  ayear.     From  the 
23d  regiment  he  went  into  the  corps  of  engineers  at 
Woolwich,  and  made  great  progress  in  that  study, 
until  his  uncle,  colonel  Elliot  brought  him  in  as  adju- 
tant of  the  second  troop  of  horse  grenadiers.     With 
these  troops,  he  went  upon  service  into  Germany,  and 
xvas  with  them  in  a  variety  of  actions,  in  all  of  which 
he  displayed  great  bravery  and  military  skill  ;  and  at 
the  battle  of  Dettingen,  he  was  wounded.     In  this 
regiment,  he  bought  the  rank  of  captain  and  major, 
and  afterwards    purchased  the   lieutenant-colonelcy 
from  colonel  Brewerton,  who  succeeded  to  his  uncle^ 
On  arriving  at  this  rank,  he  resigned  his  commission 
as  an  engineer,  which  he  had  enjoyed  along  with  his 
other  rank,  and  in  which  service  he  had  been  active- 
ly employed  very  much  to  the  advantage  of  his  coun- 
try.    He  received  the  instructions  of  the  famous  en- 
gineer Belieder,  and  made  himself  completely  master 
of  the  science  of  gunnery.     Had  he  not  so  disinterest- 
edly resigned  his  rank  in  the  engineer  department,  he 
would  long  before  his  death,  by  regular  progression, 
have  been  at  the  head  of  that  corps.    Soon  after  this 


■     DICTIONARY.  277 

lie  was  appointed  aid-de-camp,  to  George  II.  and 
was  distinguished  for  his  military  skill  and  discipline. 
In  the  year  1759,  he  quitted  the  second  troop  of  horse 
grenadier  guards,  being  selected  to  raise,  form  and 
discipline,  the  first  regiment  of  light-horse,  called  af- 
ter him,  Elliot's.  As  soon  as  they  were  raised  and 
formed,  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  ca* 
valry  in  an  expedition  on  the  coast  ot  France,  with  the 
rank  of  brigadier  general.  After  this,  he  passed  into 
Germany,  where  his  regiment  displayed  a  strictness 
of  discipline,  activity  and  enterprize,  which  gained 
them  the  most  signal  honour  ;  and  indeed  they  have 
been  a  pattern,  both  in  regard  to  discipline  and  ap- 
pointment, to  any  light  dragoons,  which  have  been 
since  raised  in  the  service.  From  Germany,  he  was 
recalled  for  the  purpose  of  being  employed  second 
in  command,  in  an  expedition  against  the  Ilavan- 
nah,  which  surrendered  to  the  arms  of  Great  Britain, 
in  August  1762. 

Upon  his  return  after  the  peace,  his  gallant  regi- 
ment was  reviewed  by  the  king,  when  they  presented 
to  his  majesty  the  colours,  which  they  had  taken  from 
the  enemy.  Gratified  with  their  fine  discipline  and 
high  character,  the  king  asked  general  Elliot,  what 
mark  of  his  favour  he  could  bestow  on  his  regi- 
ment equal  to  their  merit.  He  answered,  that  his 
regiment  would  be  proud,  if  his  majesty  should  think, 
that  by  their  services,  they  were  entitled  to  the  dis- 
tinction oi  Royals,  It  was  accordingly  made  a  royal 
regiment,  with  this  flattering  title,  "The  15th  or 
King's  Royal  Regiment  of  Light  Dragoons.''  At 
the  same  time,  the  king  expressed  a  desire  to  confer 
some  honour  on  the  general  himself;  but  the  latter  de* 
Glared,  that  the  honour  and  satisfaction  of  his  majes- 
ty's approbation  of  his  services,  was  his  best  reward. 

During  the  peace,  he  was  not  idle.  His  great  ta- 
lents in  the  military  art  gave  him  ample  employment. 
In  the  year  177  5,  he  was  appointed  to  succeed 
general  A'Court,  as  commander  in   chief  of   the 


278  KEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

forces  In  Ireland,  but  did  not  continue  long  m 
this  station-,  not  even  long  enough  to  unpack  all 
liis  trunks  ;  for  finding  that  interferences  were  made 
by  party  authority  derogatory  of  his  own,  he  resisted 
the  practice  with  becoming  spirit,  and  not  chosing  to 
disturb  the  government  of  the  sister  kingdom,  on  a 
matter  personal  to  himself,  he  solicited  to  be  recalled. 
He  accordingly  was  so,  and  appointed  to  the  command 
of  Gibraltar  in  a  fortunate  hour  for  the  safety  of  that 
important  fortress.  The  system  of  his  life  as  well  as 
his  education,  particularly  qualified  him  for  this  trust. 
He  was,  perhaps,  the  most  abstemious  man  of  the  age ; 
neither  indulging  himse>f  in  animal  food  nor  wine.  He 
never  slept  more  than  four  hours  at  a  time  j  so  that  he 
was  up  later  and  earlier  than  most  other  men.  He  so 
inured  himself  to  habits  of  hardiness,  that  the  things 
which  are  difficult  and  painful  to  otlier  men,  were  to 
him  his  daily  practice,  and  rendered  pleasant  by  use. 
It  could  not  be  easy  to-  starve  such  a  man  into  a  sur- 
render, nor  possible  to  surprise  him.  The  example  of 
the  commander  in  chief  in  a  besieged  garrison,  had  a 
most  persuasive  efficacy  in  forming  the  manners  of  the 
soldiery.  Like  him,  his  brave  followers  came  to  regu- 
late their  lives  by  the  most  strict  rules  of  discipline 
before  there  arose  a  necessity  for  so  doing  ;  and  severe 
exercise  with  short  diet  became  habitual  to  them  by 
their  own  choice.  The  military  system  of  discipline 
which  he  introduced,  and  the  preparations,  which  he 
made  for  his  defence,  were  contrived  with  so  much 
address,  that  he  was  able,  with  a  handful  of  men,  to 
preserve  his  post  against  an  attack,  the  constancy  of 
which,  even  without  the  vigour,  had  been  sufficient 
to  exhaust  any  common  set  of  men.  Collected  within 
himself,  he,  in  no  instance,  destroyed  by  premature 
attacks,  the  labours  which  would  cost  the  enemy  time, 
patience  and  expence  to  complete;  he  deliberately 
observed  their  approaches,  and  seized  on  the  proper 
moment,  with  the  keenest  perspection,  in  which  to 
make  his  attack  with  success.     He  never  spent  his 


DICTIOKARV.  279' 

smunitibii'ftitis^iess  parade,' or  In  unimportant  attacks^ 
He  never  relaxed  from  his  discipline  by  the  ap-^' 
peafance  of  security,  nor  hazarded  the  lives  of  his 
garrison  by  wild  experiments.  By  a  cool  and  tem- 
perate demeanor,  he  maintained  his  station  during  a^ 
constant  investment  of  three  years  and  seven  months,^ 
in  which  all  the  powers  of  Spain  were  employed. 

Indeed  as  it  is  more  than  probable,  that  the  prin- 
cipal design  of  the  Spanish  court,  in  entering  at  that 
time  into  w^ar  with  Great  Britian,  was  the  recovery 
of  this  important  fortress,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  if  they  exerted  every  nerve  to  accomplish  an  ob- 
ject, So  highly  gratifying  to  their  national  pride. 
Were  we  to  particularize  the  various  efforts  which 
were  used  by  the  Spaniards  to  accomplish  their  pur- 
pose, and  the  plans  so  successfully  adopted  by  the 
gallant  Elliot  to  defeat  them,  it  would  swell  thfs  ar- 
ticle far  beyond  its  necessary  limits.  V/e  ihall,  tliere- 
fore,  confine  ourselves  to  the  last  period  of  the  siege, 
when  finding  that  all  their  former  attempts  both  by 
sea  and  land,  had  been  totally  ineffectual,  they  resolv- 
ed upon  a  mode  of  attack  more  vigorous  than  any, 
heretofore  recorded  in  the  annals  of  history,  and  which 
as  it  employed  the  whole  of  their  naval  and  military 
force,  as  well  as  a  considerable  part  of  that  of  France, 
they  were  hopeful,  w^ould  ultimately  terminate  in  the 
recovery  of  Gibraltar,  that  ancient  and  natural  ap- 
pendage of  their  crown. 

The  Duke  De  Crillon,  lately  returned  from  the 
conquest  of  Minorca,  who  had  formerly  command- 
ed, at  the  Spanish  lines  before  Gibraltar,  and  was 
perfectly  acquainted  with  the  situation  of  the  garri- 
son, was  appointed  to  conduct  the  military  force  to 
be  employed  ia  this  arduous  and  interesting  enter- 
prize.  With  him  were  joined  Monsieurs  D'Arcon, 
a  French  engineer  of  great  repute,  and  admiral  Mo- 
reno. The  former  had  projected  a  plan,  which  had 
met  with  the  approbation  of  his  most  catholic  majesty, 
for  attacking  the  place  with  battering  ships^  con- 


280  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

structed  upon  sueh  principles,  that  they  were  equally 
considered  as  impregnable  and  incombustible  ^  and 
from  the  prodigious  powers  of  which,  little  else  was 
expected  than  almost  the  annihilation  of  the  garrjson : 
the  latter  had  rendered  himself  equally  eminent  with 
the  general  in  the  preceding  conquest  of  Minorca.^ 
Under  commanders  of  such  distinguished  ability^  j 
aided  by  every  combination  of  force,  which  human  ^| 
invention  could  devise,  we  need  not  in  the  least  won-, 
der,  at  the  flattering  idea,  universally  formed  by  the 
nation,  of  the  event. 

General  Elliot,  on  the  other  hand,  unawed  by  the 
impending  storm,  provided  for  every  circumstance, 
which  might  occur,  and  though  surrounded  on  every 
hand  with  enemies,  and  far  distant  from  any  hopes  of 
relief  and  assistance,  yet  he  reposed  such  confidence 
in  the  vigorous  and  united  exertions  of  the  little  army 
under  his  command,  whom  he  had  already  found 
superior  to  the  greatest  hardships,  that  he  was  not 
apprehensive  of  trusting  the  event  to  the  decision  of 
that  fortune,  which  had  been  so  often  favourable  to 
the  interests  of  the  garrison. 

The  Spaniards  having  got  every  thing  in  readiness 
for  their  grand  attack,  by  the  12th  of  Sept.  1782,  be- 
gan to  exhibit  their  vast  accumulation  of  force,  with  a 
view,  as  it  seems,  to  strike  a  terror  into  their  oppo- 
nents, previous  to  the  commencement  of  their  final 
efforts.  Forty-six  sail  of  the  line,  seven  of  which, 
were  three  deckers;  ten  battering  ships,  deemed 
perfect  in  design,  and  esteemed  invincible,  carrying 
two  hundred  and  twelve  heavy  guns,  innumerable 
frigates,  xebeques,  bomb  ketches,  cutters,  gun-boats 
and  smaller  craft  for  disembarking  men,  were  all  as- 
sembled in  the  bay.  On  the  land-side,  were  most 
stupendous  and  strong  batteries  and  works,  mount- 
ing two  hundred  pieces  of  the  heaviest  ordnance,  and 
protected  by  an  army  of  at  least  40,000  men,  com- 
manded by  a  victorious  and  active  general  of  the 
highest  reputafion.      From  such  a  combination  of 


DICTIONARY.  28i 

power,  it  was  natural  enough,  that  the  Spaniards 
shouJd  anticipate  the  most  glorious  consequences. 
Indeed,  their  confidence  in  the  effects  to  be  produced 
by  the  battering  ships  passed  all  bounds,  and  in  the 
enthusiasm  excited  by  the  magnitude  of  their  prepa- 
rations, it  was  thought  highly  criminal  eVen  to  whis- 
per a  doubt  of  the  success. 

In  drawing  these  flattering  conclusions,  the  SpanU 
nrds,  however,  seemed  entirely  to  have  overlooked 
the  nature  of  that  force,  w^hich  w^as  opposed  to  them, 
for  though  the  garrison  scarcely  consisted  of  7000  ef- 
fective men,  they  forgot  that  they  were  now  veterans 
in  the  service,  had  been  a  long  time  habituated  to 
the  effects  of  artillery,  and  were  prepared  by  degrees, 
for  the  arduous  conflict,  which  awaited  them.  They 
were,  at  the  same  time,  commanded  by  officers  of 
approved  courage,  prudence  and  ability,  at  the  head 
of  whom  was  the  invincible  Elliot.  To  all  which  it 
may  be  added,  that  their  spirits  were  not  a  little  ele- 
vated by  the  success  attending  the  recent  practice  of 
firing  red  hot  shot,  which,  in  this  attack,  they  hoped 
would  enable  them  to  bring  their  labours  to  a  period, 
and  relieve  them  from  the  tedious  cruelty  of  a  vexa- 
tious blockade. 

^  On  the  morning  of  the  13th,  the  battering  ships  left 
the  men  of  war,  and  took  their  station  in  admirable 
order  about  nine  or  ten  hundred  yards  from  the  rock. 
They  were  permitted  to  choose  their  distance  without 
molestation,  but  as  soon  as  they  began  to  drop  anchor 
about  10  o'clock,  that  instant  the  firing  commenced, 
which,  in  a  few  minutes,  became  tremendous  in  the 
highest  degree.  The  showers  of  shot  and  shells,  which 
were  directed  from  their  land  batteries,  and  the 
battering  ships,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  from  the 
works  of  the  garrison  exhibited  a  scene  of  which, 
perhaps,  neither  the  pen  nor  the  pencil  can  furnish  a 

npetent  idea.  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  four  hun- 
d  pieces  of  the  heaviest  artillery  were  playing  at 
same  moment,  an  instance,  which,  perhaps,  had 

Vol.11.  No.  13.  N'i 


282  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

never  occurred  in  any  siege,  since  the  invention  of 
those  wonderful  engines  of  destruction. 

After  some  hours  cannonade,  the  battering  ships 
ivere  found  to  be  no  less  formidable  than  they  had 
been  represented.  The  heaviest  shells  often  rebound 
cd  from  their  tops,  whilst  the  thirty-two  pound  shot  ' 
seemed  incapable  of  making  any  visible  impression; 
upon  their  hulls.  For  some  time,  the  attack  and  de- 
fence were  so  equally  well  supported,  as  scarcely  to 
admit  any  appearance  of  superiority  in  the  cannon- 
ade of  either  side.  In  the  afternoon,  however,  the! 
effect  of  the  red-hot  shot  from  the  garrison  was  visi-^ 
ble,  and  the  sm.oke,  which  had  been  seen  some  time^ 
before,  in  the  different  battering  ships  began  to  pre- 
vail. Confusion  was  now  apparent  on  board  several 
of  the  vessels,  and  by  the  evening  their  cannonade 
was  considerably  abated.  When  their  firing  began 
to  slacken,  many  rockets  were  thrown  up  as  sig- 
nals of  distress,  which  were  immediately  answered 
by  their  friends,  and  several  boats  came  off  to  the 
relief  of  the  disabled  ships  ;  but  it  was  not  in  their 
power  to  contribute  much  to  their  assistance. 

About  an  hour  after  midnight,  the  battering  ship, 
which  had  suffered  the  greatest  injury  was  coinplete- 
TiJy  :in  flames,  and  by  two  o'clock,  she  appeared  as 
bne  continued  blaze  from  stem  to  stern.  The  ship 
next  to  her  was  also  on  fire,  but  did  not  burn  with 
so  much  rapidity.  The  light  thrown  on  all  sides  by 
the  flames,  enabled  the  artillery  to  point  the  guns 
with  the  utm.ost  precision,  whilst  the  rock  and  neigh- 
bouring objects  were  highly  illuminated,  forming 
with  the  flashes  of  the  cannon  an  indescribable  scene 
of  sublimity  and  terror.  Between  three  and  four  o'clock, 
six  others  of  the  battering  ships  indicated  the  eflicacy 
of  red-hot  shot,  and  before  the  ensuing  evening,  the 
w^hoje  of  these  impregnable  vessels,  as  they  had  been 
deemed,  by  the  Spanards,  were  completely  destroyed. 
Thus  the  court  of  Madrid,  after  having  expended 
immense  treasures,  in  these  prodigious  preparations, 


DICTIONARY.  2S% 

had  at  last  the  mortification  of  seeing  their  most  san- 
guine expectations  litterally  vanish  in  smoke.  The 
besiegers,  however,  though  compelled  to  relinquish 
the  idea  of  recovering  Gibraltar,  continued  to  harrass 
the  garrison  by  successive  attacks  till  the  news  of 
peace  having  arrived  in  Febuary  1783,  put  an  end  to 
all  further  hostilities. 

During  this  memorable  siege,  the  eyes  of  all  Ea>* 
rope  were  fixed  upon  this  garrison,  and  the  conduct 
of  the  gallant  veteran,  who  commanded  it,  received 
the  highest  approbation  even  from  his  enemies,  and 
exalted  him  to  the  most  elevated  rank  in  the  an- 
nals of  military  fame.  On  his  return  to  England,  the 
gratitude  of  the  British  senate  was  as  forward  as  the 
public  voice  in  giving  him  that  distinguished  mark, 
which  his  merit  so  richly  deserved.  Both  houses  of 
Parliament  voted  him  an  unanimous  address  of  thanks. 
The  king  conferred  on  him  the  honour  of  Knight  of 
the  Bath,  and  on  June  14th  1787,  advanced  him 
to  the  peerage,  by  the  title  of  "  Lord  Heathficld  of 
Gibraltar,'*  permitting  him  to  take,  in  addition  to  his 
family  arms,  the  arms  of  the  fortress,  he  had  so  brave- 
ly defended,  to  perpetuate  to  futurity  his  noble  con- 
duct. 

His  Lordship  died  on  the  6th  July,  1790,  at  AIk 
la  Chapelle,  of  a  stroke  of  the  palsy,  after  having  for 
some  weeks  preceding,  enjoyed  tolerably  good  health 
and  an  unusual  flow  of  spirits.  His  death  happened 
two  days  after  he  w^as  to  have  set  out  for  Gibraltar, 
of  which  place  he  was  once  more  appointed  to  the 
defence,  in  the  view  of  an  approaching  war.  He 
married  the  daughter  of  Sir  Francis  Drake,  and  had  by 
her,  who  died  in  1769,  Francis  Augustus,  now  Lord 
Hcathfield,  and  who,  at  the  time  of  his  father's  de- 
cease, was  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  the  6th  regimcni 
of  horse. 


284  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ELLIOT,  (John)  commonly  stiled  the  great  In- 
dian Apostle,  was  a  minister  of  the  congregational 
church  at  Roxburgh,  near  Boston,   Massachusetts, 
about  the  year  1650;  but  of  the  time  or  place  of  his 
birth,  we  have  no  certain  information.     He  was  inde- 
fatigable in  his  labours  to  propagate  the  gospel  amongt 
the  aborigines  of  the  country,  and  for  that  purpose, 
he,  Vv^ith  much  labour,  made  himself  master  of  the  Na- 
tic  dialect  of  the  Indian  languages.     In  the  year 
3  657,  we  find  him  at  Hartford,  Connecticut,  attend- 
ing a  synod  or  assembly  of  Ministers,  who  had  conven- 
ed to  promote  the  great  business  of  religion,  and  hav- 
ing heard  of  the  Podunk  Indians,  being  in  that  vicinity, 
he  desired  them  to  be  called  together,  that  he  might 
have  an  opportunity  of  preaching  the  doctrines  of  re-  j 
demption.     By  the  influence  of  some  leading  men,  '■ 
they  were  prevailed  on  to  meet  at  Hartford,  where  | 
Mr.  Elliot  adressed  them  in  their  own  language,  and  j 
laboured  hard  to  instruct  them  concerning  their  crea-  1 
tor  and  redeemer.     When  he  had  finished  his  dis- 
course, he  was  desirous  to  know,  what  impression 
he  had    made    on   their   minds,    and    asked    them 
w^hether  they  would  accept  of  Christ  for  their  saviour,  . 
as  he  had   been  offered  to  them.     The  chief  .men, 
hov^^ever,  treated  the  proposal  with  scorn,  alledging,  i 
that  the  English,  who  had  already  taken  away  their  ^ 
lands,  were  now,  under  the  pretence  of  promoting 
their   future  interest,   only  endeavouring  to  reduce 
them  to  a  state  of  servitude. 

In  1664,  he  was  appointed  minister  at  Guilford 
Connecticut,  but  still  devoted  a  great  part  of  his  time 
to  his  favorite  object,  the  conversion  of  the  natives. 
With  this  view,  he  translated  the  bible,. catechism/' 
and  several  religious  books  into  the  Indian  language,  ' 
and  travelled  through  most  parts  of  Massachusetts  and 
Plymouth  plantations.  He  relates  several  pertinent 
queries  of  the  Indians,  respecting  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, among  others,  whether  Jesus  Cl3rist,  the  medi- 
ator or  intercessor  could  understand  prayers  in  the  In- 


DICTIONARY.  285 

dian  language  ?  If  the  father  be  bad  and  the  child 
good,  why  should  God,  as  in  the  second  coirsmand- 
inent,  be  offended  with  the  child  ?  How  the-  Indians^ 
came  to  differ  so  much  from  the  English  in  the  knowt* 
edge  of  God  and  Jesus  Christ,  since  they  all  sprang 
from  one  common  father?  Mr.  Elliot  was  held  in 
the  greatest  veneration  by  the  aborigcnes  as  Vwdl  as 
by  the  colony;  as  a  proof  of  which,  we  may  men- 
tion an  act  of  the  General  Assembly  relating  to  the 
Indians,  expressed  in  this  manner,  ''  By  the  advid^ 
of  the  magistrates  and  of  Mr.  EllioL''  '  -' 

He  continued  with  indefatigable  industry  to  instruct 
the  churches  and  propagate  the  gospel  amop.gst  those 
by  wdiom  it  had  never  been  heard  before,  till  his 
death,  which  happened  in  the  year  1 G94,  when  he  had 
arrived  at  a  good  old  age. 

ELPIIINSTON,  (William)  wasdescended  from 
a  noble  family,  originally  from  Germany,  and  wai» 
born  in  Glasgow,  in  14S1.  At  the  age  of  seven,  he 
was  committed  to  the  ablest  masters,  to  be  instructed 
in  learning  and  good  morals,  and  after  a  short  appli- 
cation to  grammar,  made  such  a  proficiency,  as  to  af- 
ford the  most  flattering  j)rospects  of  his  future  utility. 
When  he  had  attained  his  20th  year,  he  applied 
himself  to  logics  and  metaphysics,  in  which  he  made 
such  a  progress,  that  he  soon  surpassed  his  equals. 
At  the  age  of  25,  he  entered  into  the  service  of  the 
church,  and  became 'immediately  minister  of  the 
church  of  St.  Michael,  in  Glasgow.  As  no  church- 
man, in  that  age,  who  was  ambitious  of  rising  to 
great  ecclesiastical  preferments,  or  of  obtaining  con- 
sequence in  the  state,  could  expect  to  succeed,  with- 
out a  competent  knowledge  of  the  civil  and  canon 
law,  after  he  had  resided  four  years  upon  his  cure,  he 
set  out  to  the  university  of  Paris,  which  liad  long 
been  celebrated  for  the  cultivation  of  that  branch  of 
literature,   and    sucli    was  the  proficiency  he    made 


286  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ihere,  that,  in  the  space  of  three  years,  he  was  ap- 
poii7ted  professor. 

Hs.ving  spent  nine  years  in  France,  and  six  of  them 
in  a  conspicuous  and  honourable  situation,  he  was 
urged  by  his  patron,  the  bishop  of  Glasgow,  to  return 
to  his  country  and  his  friends.  The  post  of  official 
of  Glasgow,  an  office  somewhat  analogous  to  that  of 
Bishop's  deputy,  or  vicar  general  of  the  diocese,  was 
conferred  upon  him  soon  after  his  arrival,  and  a  valu- 
able revenue  was,  at  that  time,  annexed  to  it.  James 
III.  then  upon  the  Scottish  throne,  being  made  ac- 
quainted with  his  prudence  and  ability  in  the  dis- 
charge of  that  office,  desired  to  see  him  at  Edinburgh, 
Tiud  by  the  patronage  of  that  monarch,  he  was  soon 
promoted  ;  being  made  official  of  St.  Andrew's  and 
,one  of  the  Lords  of  the  privy  council. 
'  Some  misunderstanding  having  arisen  between  the 
King  of  Scotland,  and  Lewis  XI.  of  France,  Mr.  El-I 
phinstcn  was  sent  to  Paris,  in  company  with  two 
others,  to  answer  the  matter  of  complaint  brought 
forward  on  the  part  of  the  French.  After  some  discus- 
sion, the  differences  betwen  the  tw^o  courts  were  ccm- 
pcsed.  The  success  of  this  commission  was  so  much, 
attributed  to  the  wisdom  and  eloquence  of  Elphin-| 
ston,  that  immediately  upon  his  return  he  was  advan- 
ced to  the  bishopric  of  Ross,  and  in  the  same  year  to 
the  see  of  Aberdeen. 

Richard  III.  having  murdered  his  nephews,  whose 
protector  he  had  been  chosen,  ascended  the  throne 
of  England  in  1483.  Reflecting  on  how  slippery  al 
foundation  it  stood,  in  the  blood  of  his  near  relatives, 
and  well  versed  in  the  love  of  worldly  w'isdom,  he 
naturally  recurred  to  those  means,  by  which  it  might 
best  be  fixed  and  consolidated,  and  none  appearing 
more  plausible  than  the  alliance  of  a  neighbouring 
monarch,  he  proposed  to  enter  into  a  negociationfor 
that  purpose  with  James  IIL  Although  this  king 
held  the  bloody  ambition  of  Richard  in  the  utmost 
detestation,  \et,  when  he  considered,  that  his  own 


DICTIONARY.  287 

ttirone  fre'quently  tottered  amidst  the  factions  of  a 
discontented  nobility,  and  that  the  advantages  of  a 
treaty,  wisely  conducted,  would  be  at  least  reciprocal, 
he  consented  to  form  a  commission  of  distinguished 
persons,  to  meet  one  not  less  respectable,  en  the  part 
of  Richard.  Amongst  the  most  able  of  the  Scottish 
ambassadors  was  the  bishop  of  Aberdeen.  The 
communication  of  these  ministers  continued  for  some 
time^  many  debates  arose  on  the  terms  to  be  stipulated 
but,  at  length,  by  the  skill  and  address  of  our  prelate, 
an  alliance  between  the  two  nations  was  concluded  for 
three  years,  in  September,  1484.  * 

After  this,  our  Prelate's  influence  with  the  king- 
berame  so  great,  that  m,ost  of  the  great  affairs  of  ihe 
nanon  were  conducted  under  his  direction  and  by  his 
advice.  He  was,  in  particular,  highly  instrumental  in 
prevailing  on  his  majesty  to  leave  off  his  debauched 
and  irregular  life,  to  put  a  stop  to  the  ravages  of  the 
marauders,  who,  at  that  time,  overrun  the  kingdom, 
committing  the  greatest  devastations,  and  to  reform 
the  administration  of  justice  by  itinerant  judges,  who, 
hy  the  iniquity  of  the  times,  had,  for  some  years, 
neglected  to  punish  the  various  crimes,  which  dis- 
turbed the  public  peace.  Conformable  to  the  ideas 
of  piety,  which  prevailed  in  those  times,  and  partly, 
indeed,  to  his  episcopal  character,  he,  likewise,  warmly 
recommended  the  reparation  of  chapels  and  of  edi- 
fices consecrated  to  monastic  devotion,  and  even  the 
foundation  of  certain  new  ones.  The  chapel  royal 
in  the  castle  of  Stirling,  w^as  founded  in  consequence 
of  this  advice. 

The  priory  of  Coldingham,  at  that  period,  became 
vacant,  and  being  at  the  king's  disposal,  he  annexed 
its  revenues  to  his  new  chapel,  and  procured  a  law 
in  parliament,  to  prevent  any  of  his  subjects  from  dis- 
uniting these  benefices.  The  family  of  the  Humes 
complained  of  the  king's  proceeding,  as  an  infringe- 
ment of  their  privilege,  and,  indeed,  as  an  alienation 
of  their  property;  inasmuch  as  the  priory  of  Colding- 


•288  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

l>arO:J^adi'j^'e^>i>J  tkdr  former  sovereigns,  been  con- 
ferred upon  a  Hume,  and  the  tythes  and  pecuniary 
emoluments  belonging  to  it,  were  paid  out  of  the 
c$tartes  of  that  family.     James,  disinclined  to  mak^ 
anyvqoncession,^p,<trsi.sted  in  maintaining  his  arrangei 
i^en|.     The  Hiimes^  enraged  at  his  pertinacity,  ap--  * 
pjlied  to  their  friends  and  neighbours  the  Hepburns  ) 
desiring  assistance  to  assert  their  claim,  which  wa^  | 
granted,  on  condition  that  a  Hepburn,  as  well  as  ^| 
HiuiiC,  should  in  future  have  an  equal  right  to  be  ad-  "^ 
va-Bced  to  the  priory  of  Coldingham. 

Small  causes,  as  we  frequently  see,  may  operate 
to  a  wide  extent.  The  combination  entered  into  by 
m^'se  two  familicrs,  bent  upon  resistance  to  the  king's 
will,  in  the  aiTair  in  question,  proved  the  centre  of  at* 
fraction  to  all  the  male-contents  and  disaffected  through- 
mU  the  kingdom.  This  business  of  the  priory,  fur- 
nishing an  ostensible  pretext  to  all  parties,  opportu-  « 
BJty'^eon  offered,  or  was  sought  for,  and  ,the  parties 
rose  fn  rebellion  against  their  sovereign.  The  bishop 
gf- Abcrdef^n,  upon  this  occasion,  exerted  all  his  iq* 
fljiencc  to  bring  back  the  rebels  to  their  duty;  b^t 
Sliding,  aker  all  his  efforts,  that  he  had  been  vainly 
preaching  loyalty  and  christian  peace  to  a  people.  rQ^ 
solved  not  to  hear,  and  believing  affairs  of  war  to  be 
neither- within  his  competence,  nor  becoming  his  pro- 
fession, he  relinquished  tlie  scene  of  political  busi^ 
r*ess  and  retired  to  his  diocese. 

During  this  recess  from  the  tumult  of  violence_  and 
rebellion,  he  compiled  his  book  of  canons  adaptedj^ ' 
from  those  of  the  primitive  church,  to  the  ecclesiasr 
lical  state  of  Scotland.  He  reformed  such  abuses  as  ' 
had  crcfpt  in  amongst  his  clergy,  and  attended  with 
the'  most  exemplary  vigilance  to  every  part  of  his  pas- 
toral province.   ^ 

^f-- Whilst. he -W8S  absorbed  in. these;  employments,  in- 
fdiigence  was  suddenly  brought  him,  that  the  king 
had  fallen  in  the  field  of  battle,  whilst  he  was  courr 
^.geously  defending.. himself  against  the  lords  of  the 


DICTIONARY.  289 

insurrection,  a  title    given  to  the  chiefs,  who  had  u* 
nited  in  that  rebellion. 

A  parliament  being  summoned  to  meet  at  Eding- 
burgb,  in  1488,  our  prelate  was  obliged  to  attend  it, 
to  assist  at  the  coronation  of  the  young  king,  who  w^as 
then  in  the  1 6th  year  of  his  age.  When  that  busi- 
ness was  finished,  the  lords  of  the  insurrection  began 
to  suspect,  that  many  of  their  proceedings  might  not 
be  entirely  conformable  to  our  prelate *s  principles: 
they,  therefore,  to  avoid  the  scrutiny  of  such  eyeSj 
contrived  an  honorable  pretext  for  his  removal,  and 
appointed  him  ambassador  to  the  emperor  Maximi- 
lian,'on  a  proposition  of  marriage  betwixt  theiryoung 
king,  and  Margaret,  the  emperor's  daughter.  But 
however  acceptable  this  matrimonial  alliance  might 
have  been  to  the  court  of  Vienna,  it  was  frustrated 
by  the  prior  engagement  of  the  young  lady  to  the 
prince  of  Spain. 

The  bishop  desirous  to  compensate  for  his  failure 
in  the  object  of  his  German  embassy,  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  his  return  through  Holland,  to  settle  several 
points  of  difference,  which  had  created  animosity  be- 
tween Scotland  and  the  United  Provinces,  and,  in  the 
name  of  his  young  sovereign,  happily  concluded  a 
treaty.  Thus,  having  rendered  a  signal  and  unex- 
pected service  to  his  country,  he  returned  home  with 
honour  and  eclat. 

Tranquillity  being  thus  restored,  our  prelate  began 
to  feel  a  strong  attraction  towards  the  calm  retreat  of 
his  diocese,  whilst  his  thoughts  seemed  wholly  en- 
gaged in  promoting  the  interestsof  religion  and  learn- 
ing. About  the  year  1494,  he  applied  for,  and  ob- 
tained, from  Pope  Alexander  VI.  a  bull  for  founding 
a  university  at  Aberdeen,  and  erected  a  college  at  his 
own  expence  in  the  Old  Town  of  that  city,  which, 
for  elegance  and  beauty,  is,  even  to  the  present  day, 
justly  considered,  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
buildings,  in  Scotland.  To  this  seminary,  he  gave  the 
name  of  King's  Colle^t^  because  James  IV.  took  it 

Vol.  II.  No.  13.  0  2 


290  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

under  his  protection.  It  was  endowed  witli  great 
privileges,  said  to  be  much  in  the  spirit  of  those  grant- 
ed to  the  universities  of  Paris  and  Bononia.  At  its 
first  estabiishment,  it  had  a  principal,  sub-principaJ, 
three  professors  in  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  a  pro- 
fessor of  languages.  Provision  was  also  made  for  the 
support  of  eight-priests,  and  the  maintenance  of  twen- 
ty-seven poor  students.  The  endowment  of  thor- 
whole  arose  from  lands,  manors  &;c.  which  were  pur-f 
ceased  by  the  founder. 

,  The  first  principal  or  president  of  this  university  wa» 
the  ceJebrated  Hector  Boethius,  whom  bishop  Elphin*  \ 
ston  invited  from  the  college  of  Montague,  at  Paris, 
where  he  was  professor  of  philosophy,  to  take  charge 
of  his  new  seminary.     The  salary  which  he  receiv- 
ed, and    seemed  to   consider   as    very  liberal,  was', 
only  forty  marks  Scotch,  not  quite  ten  dollars  Amef^^ 
can  currency,  per  annum.     In  the  present  age,  it  isff 
difficult  even  for  the  imagination  so  to  raise  the  value/ 
af  money,  or  so  to  diminish  the  demands  of  life,  as^ 
to  suppose  ten  dollars  a  year  an  honourable  stipend ; 
yet  it  was  probably  equal  not  only  to  the  needs,  but 
even  to  the  rank  of  Boethius.     The  wealth  of  Eng- 
land was  then  undoubtedly  to  that  of  Scotland  more 
than  five  to  one;  and  it  is  known,  that  Henry  VIII. 
among  whose  faults,  avarice  was  never  reckoned, 
granted  to  Roger  Ascham,  as  a  reward  of  his  learn-, 
ing,  a  pension  of  ten  pounds  sterling  (44  4oll%t^  40 
cents)  yearly.  t,  h-n     >;: 

The  city  of  Aberdeen  was  likewise  indebted  to  the^ 
munificence  of  bishop  Elphinston  for  a  number  of 
public  works,  the  most  remarkable  of  which,  was 
the  bridge  across  the  river  Dec,  which  gives  name  Xjf^ 
the  tovi^n. 

.  That  part  of  his  time,  which  remained  unconse- 
crated  to  devotion,  to  acts  of  charity,  public  and  pri- 
vate, and  to  the  business  of  his  diocese  was  spent  in 
study.  His  principal  literary  undertaking  was  "  The 
History  of  Scotland"  from  its  most  remote  antiquity 


DICTIONARY.  291 

to  the  death  of  James  II.  an  accomplished  prince, 
who  was  unfortunately  killed  at  the  siege  of  Roi^^' 
burgh  in  the  year  1460.  Our  historian  follows  prett)^ 
closely  the  footsteps  of  Fordoun,  as  far  as  that  autho^ 
has  gone  ;  but  afterwards  enters  much  more  into  de^- 
tail,  and  writes  with  greater  precision,  than  any  of 
Fordoun*s  continuators. 

Our  prelate  continued  his  labours  of  learning  and 
piety  to  a  very  advanced  age,  and  was  still  proceed- 
ing with  some  vigour  in  the  good  purposes  of  Hisf 
heart,  when  his  spirit  received  a  violent  shock  from 
the  death  of  James  IV.  at  the  battle  of  Floudon, 
Sept.  9th  1513.  In  consequence  of  this  event,  a 
parliament  was  immediately  assembled  at  Sterling  ^ 
the  nation  fell  into  the  most  unsettled  state  ;  and  no-'^ 
thing  could  be  more  embroiled  than  all  its  affairs! 
The  queen  was  left  with  two  sons,  the  elder  only  in 
the  second  year  of  his  age.  Many  of  the  wisest  anif 
best  amongst  the  nobility  and  the  great  had  fallen 
with  their  king,  on  that  fatal  day.  Those  of  the  highest 
pretensions  left  behind  were  most  of  them  young  antV 
without  experience.  Our  venerable  prelate  seeingf 
the  distressed  condition  of  his  country,  quitted  his 
peaceful  retirement,  with  the  resolution  of  contribute 
ing  his  best  efforts  to  restore  its  prosperity ;  but? 
he  fell  sick  in  the  progress  of  his  journey,  atid 
died  at  Edinburgh,  in  the  year  1514,  and  in  the  83d 
of  his  ao:e. 

The  several  situations,  in  v^hich  he  successively  ap- 
peared, were  eminently  distinguivshed,  as  each  demand- 
ed its  proper  character,  by  his  knowledge,  his  learn- 
ing, his  address,  his  munificence  or  his  piety  ;  and  it 
seems  not  too  much  to  say,  that  his  exalted  station  in 
the  church  was  adorned  by  the  constant  union  of 
them  all. 

-^The  very  considerable  acquisitions  of  wealth,  which 
his  different  offices  or  employments  in  the  church  or 
the  state  enabled  him  to  make,  were,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  returned,    during  his  life  timrc,  in  no 


292  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

scanty  measure,  to  bis  country  in  acts  of  noble  libe- 
rality, or  the  most  useful  charity  ;  and  he  bequeathed 
the  remainder,  partly  for  the  completion  of  his  bridge 
over  the  Dee,,  and. partly  .for  the  benefit  of  his  college 
at  Aberdeen;  fitrraitfontr^ 

.  We  shall  conclude  our  character  of  this  venerable 
prelate  by  the  following  eulogium  of  one,  who,  his., 
biographer  Dr.  Lettice  says,  had  the  best  opportu^ 
nity  of  observing  him  "  that  there  never  was  a  man 
of  greater  integrity  of  life  and  manners ;  it  having 
been  proverbially  affirmed  to  his  honour,  that  from 
the  time  of  his  entering  into  holy  orders,  he  was 
never  know^i  to  do  or  say  an  unseemly  thing." 

ELWES,  (John)  whose  family  name  was  Meg4^ 
got,  a  singular  character,  notorious  for  irrational  parJj 
simony  and  immense  pecuniary  accumulations,  was 
born  in  the  city  of  London,  in  the  year  1709,  and 
lived  to  be  a  member  of  three  successive  parlia« 
ments.  His  father,  who  was  a  brewer  of  great 
eminence  died,  while  he  was  only  four  years  of  age, 
so  that  little  of  the  character  of  Mr,  Eiwes  is  to  be 
attributed  to  him  ;  but  from  the  molhe)'  it  may  be 
traced  at  once,  for  though  she  was  left  upwards  of 
four  hundred  thousand  dollars  by  her  husband,  she 
starved  herself  to  death  !  -  .:   : ;:  ji],^ 

At  an  early  period  of  life,  he  was  sent  to  Westmin- 
ster school,  where  he  remained  for  ten  or  twelve 
years.  During  that  time,  he  certainly  had  not  mis- 
applied his  talents,  for  he  was  a  good  classical  scholar 
to  the  last;  and  it  is  a  circumstance,  not  a  little  re- 
markable, though  well  authenticated,  that  he  never 
read  afterwards,  because  hooks  cost  money,  nor  could 
the  whole  of  his  library,  at  any  period  of  his  life,  be 
valued  at  more  than  forty  shillings.  His  knowledge 
in  accounts  was  very  trifling,  and  in  some  measure 
may  account  for  the  total  ignorance  he  was  always  in, 
as  to  his  own  affairs. 


DICTIONARY.  29S 

111  the  usual  fortuitous  turn  of  events,  which  often 
throws  property  into  the  lap  of  those,  who  have  the 
least  occasion  for  it,  he  inherited  the  vast  wealth  of 
his  uncle,  and  great  prototype  in  frugality.  Sir  Harvey 
Elwes,  of  whom,  previous  to  our  entering  more  par- 
iicularly  on  the  life  of  John,  we  deem  it  necessary 
to  take  some  notice.  -'^'^  ' '4 

Providence,  perhaps,  has  wisely  ordered  "il§"?>t^tti 
possessors  of  estates  should  change  hke  the  SU'O*- 
cession  of  the  seasons  ;  the  day  of  tillage  and  the 
seed  time,  the  harvest  and  the  consumption  of  it,  in 
due  order  follow  each  other,  and  in  the  scale  of  evdits 
arc  all  necessary  alike.  This  v^as  exemplified  in  the 
character  of  Sir  Harvey  Elwes,  the  successor  of  Sir 
Jervoise  Elwes,  a  gentleman,  who  had  involyedj^  as 
far  as  they  would  go,  all  the  estates  he '  received 
and  left  behind  him.  On  his  death,  Sir  Harvey  found 
"himself  nominally  possessed  of  some  thousands  a 
year,  but  really  with  an  income  of  only  one  hundred 
pounds  per  annum.  He  said,  on  his  arrival  at  Stoke 
the  family  seat,  that  *'  he  would  never  leave  it,  till  he 
had  entirely  cleared  the  paternal  estate,'*  and  he  liv- 
ed to  do  that  and  to  realize  a  vast  sum  besides. 

But  he  was  formed  of  the  very  materials  to  make 
perfect  the  character  of  a  Miser,  In  his  youth,  he  had 
been  given  over  for  a  consumption,  so  that  he  had  no 
constitution  and  no  passions.  He  was  timid,  shy,  and 
diiBdent  in  the  extreme,  of  a  thin  spare  habit  of  bo- 
dy and  without  a  friend  upon  earth.  -  ■  - 

As  he  had  no  acquaintance,  no  bocks,  and  no  turn 
for  reading,  the  hoarding  up  and  the  counting  of  his 
money,  was  his  greatest  joy.  The  next  to  that  Vvas 
partridge  setting,  at  which  he  was  so  great  an  adept, 
and  game  was  then  so  plentiful,  that  he  has  beeii 
known  to  take  (wq  hundred  brace  of  birds  in  one  sea- 
son. But  he  lived  upon  partridges,  he  and  his  whole 
little  household,  consisting  of  one  man  and  two 
maid«.  Vvhat  they  could  not  eat,  he  tur4;»ed'©i4^-a- 
gain,  as  he  never  gave  any  thing  avvay.i'wo  iiui  ot  --^ 


294  NEW  BIOGRA  PHICAIr 

He,  at  all  times,  wore  a  black  velvet   cap  much 
over  his  face,  a  worn  out  full  dressed  suit  of  clothes, 
and  an  eld  great  coat,  with  worsted  stockings  drawn 
over  his  knees.     He  rode  a  thin  thorough  bred  horse, 
and  the  Jwrsc  and  his  rider  both  looked  as  if  a  gust  oi 
wand  would  have  blown  them  away  together.     Whenj^ 
the  day  was  not  so  fine,  as  to  tempt  him  abroad,  h©, 
would  walk  backwards  and  forwards  in  his  old  hall|| 
to  save  the  expence  of  fire,  and  if  a  farmer,  in  hist 
neighbourhood  came  in,  he  would  strike  a  light  in 
tinder-box,  that  he  kept  by  him,  and  putting  on< 
single  stick  upon  the  grate,  would  not  add  anoth( 
till  the  first  was  nearly  burnt  out. 

Thus  lived  and  thus  died  the  uncle  to  Mr.  Elwes 
whose  possessions,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  were  sup-^) 
posed  to  be  worth  upwards  of  1 ,000,000  dollars,  whiistt 
that  of  Mr.  Elwes  himself  was  believed  to  be  verj^rf 
little  inferior. 

The  contemplation  of  such  a  character,  as  that  ofi 
Sir. Harvey  Elwes,  affords  a  very  mortifying  and  mela^-^ 
cholly  picture  of  human  infirmity.     The  contrast  ofo 
so  much  wealth,  and  so  much  abuse  of  it  is  degradingo 
to  the  human  understanding.     But  in  return,  it  yett 
has  its  uses;  for  let  those,  who  fancy  there  is  a  charvi% 
in  richeSy  able  to  fix  happiness,  here  view  ail  thek-^ 
inability  and  all  their  failures  ;  and  acknowledge  that 
the  '"■  mind  alone  makes  or  marrsour  felicity."  Forwho 
almost  would  credit,  that  while  the  comforts,  if  not 
the  luxuries  of  life,  are  acknowledged  to  confer  hap- 
piness, and   be  the  foundation  of  our  pleasures^  that 
Sir  Harvey  Elwes,  possessed  of  such  an  im.mense  pro- 
perty, should   deny  himself  almost  fire  and  candle, 
should  wear  the  cast  off  clothes  oihh  predecessor  (tor 
he  never  purchased  a  new  garment,)  and  live  in  a,. 
house  where  the  wind  was  entering  at  every  brokenl 
casement,  and  the  rain  descending  through  the  roof^n 
voluntarily  imposing  upon  himself  a  condition  far  in-t 
ferior  to  that  of  a  pauper  in  an  alms-house. 

So  much  for  the  uncle!  the  delineation  of  the  chax^ 


DICTIONARY.  12^5 

acter  of  the  nepfew;  "ftie  late  John  Elvve^^^^s^tf^ 
ceeded  him,  after  he  had  attained  the  fortieth  year 
of  his  age,  folJows  next,  who,  though  a  ??iurr  m  the;^ 
completest  sense  of  the  word,  we  are  told  by  his  bio-^ 
grapher,  captain  Topham,  never  quite  reached,  evea|^ 
to  the  last  period  of  his  life,  the  extraordinaiy;^-- 
tempts  at  saving  money,  made  by  his  uncle.  ;- "''^ 

The  first  feature  of  this  portrait  is  consummate  fijr^' 
pocrisy,  not  generally  the  vice  of  youth;   yet  Mri| 
Elwes  set  out  with  it  early  in  life,  for,  expecting  tcT 
be  Sir  Harvey's  heir,  and  knowing  his  extreme  aver-^ 
son  from  every  appearance  of  the  sensual  passions,  he 
carefully  concealed  his  fondness  for  dress,  and  a  good 
dinner,  in  both  of  which  he  indulged  himself,  at  that 
time,  from  his  penurious  uncle.     His  mode  of  visit-^t 
ing,  therefore,  at  Stoke,  was  as  follows:    He  used  tc^ 
stop  at  a  little  inn  at  Chelmsford,  which  he  did  not^' 
much  like,  and  begin  to  d?TSs  in  chm^actei^ — a  pair  of , 
small  iron  buckles,  worsted  stockings  darned,  a  worri^' 
out  old  coat,  and  a  tattered  waistcoat  were  put  on,  and  ' 
onwards  he  rode  to  visit  his  uncle,  who  used  to  con- 
template  him  with  a  viiserable  kind  of  satisfaction,  . 
and  seemed  pleased  to  find  his  heir  attempting  to 
come  up  with  him  in  the  race  of  avarice.     But  the  ' 
nephew  having  then,  as  he  always  had,  a  very  ex- 
traordinary appetite,  which  would  have  been  a  mon- 
strous offence  in  the  eye  of  the  uncle,  took  care  to 
pick  up  a  dinner  first  with  some  gentleman  by  the 
way,  and  then  sat  down  to  table  with  Sir  Harvey,  ex- 
hibiting to  him  only  a  little  diminitive  appetite,  which 
was  quite  engaging.     A  partridge,  a  small  puddingj^^)^- 
and  a  potatoe,  with  one  glass  of  wine  betwixt  them,  ^ 
was  a  sufficient  repast  for  this  saving  pair,  and  thd' 
fire  was  suffered  to  go  out,  while  they  were  at  din- 
ner, because  eating  was  exercise  enough  to  warm 
them.     There  they  would  sit,  talking  of  the  extra- 
vagance of  the  times,  till  evening,  when  they  would 
retire  to  rest,  as  going  to  be<l  saved  caiidle  light  f 

And  here  we  must  make  one  remark,  to  point  out 


296  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

the  difference  between  the  two  characters ;  Sir  Har- 
vey became  a  miser  from  necessity,  the  succession  left 
him  by  Sir  Jervoise,  as  we  have  already  observed 
being  so  involved,  that  he  would  have  been  ruined 
by  the  inheritance,  if  he  had  not  resolved  to  save  and 
lay  up  for  years  to  come.  But  as  for  the  late  Mr. 
Elwes,  he  did  not  commence  miser,  till  he  was  as 
rich  as  a  nabob.  He  was  a  hypocrite  to  the  fash- 
ionable world,  whose  manners  he  assumed,  and  irj 
whose  luxuries  he  deeply  engaged,  and  he  was 
equally  so  to  his  uncle,  by  reversing  his  external  ap- 
pearance, and  mortifying  his  appetites.  But  no 
sooner  w^as  that  uncle  dead,  than  he  threw  off  the 
mask,  and  stood  forth  the  confessed  v/orshipper  of 
the  golden  calf.  A  vice,  which  sprung  from  cupidi- 
ty, however,  still  made  him  keep  one  set  of  compa^ 
ny,  that  of  noble  gamesters.  Upon  these  occasions, 
where  honour  is  so  much  talked  of,  and  so  little  praoi 
tised,  it  was  his  constant  rule  to  pay  his  losings  by 
a  draft,  before  he  quitted  the  room;  but  meeting  few 
either  able  or  willing  to  imitate  him  in  this  respect,  he 
was  soon  tired  of  paying,  but  never  receiving,  and 
left  the  society  in  disgust,  after  losing,  at  one  sit- 
ting 14000,  (17760  dollars),  at  piquet. 

His  chief  residence,  while  his  uncle  was  living, 
was  at  Marcham  the  paternal  seat  in  Berkshire,  but 
upon  his  death,  he  came  to  reside  at  Stoke  in  Suf- 
folk. Bad  as  was  the  mansion  house  he  found  here,  he 
left  one  still  worse  at  Marcham,  of  which  the  late 
colonel  Timms,  his  nephew,  used  to  mention  the  fol- 
lowing proof.  A  few  days  after  he  went  thither,  a 
great  quantity  of  rain  fell  in  the  night;  he  had  not 
been  in  bed,  before  he  felt  himself  wet  through ;  and 
putting  his  hand  out  of  the  clothes,  found  the  rain 
was  dropping  through  the  cieling  upon  the  bed ;  he 
got  up  and  moved  ihe  bed,  but  he  had  not  lain  long, 
before  he  found  the  same  inconvenience.  Again  he 
got  up,  and  again  the  rain  came  down.  At  length 
after  pulling  the  bed  round  the  room,  he  got  into  a 


DICTIONARY.  297 

corner  where  the  cieling  was  better  secured,  and  slept 
till  morning.  When  he  met  Mr.  Elwes  at  breakfast, 
he  told  him  what  had  happened.  **'  Aye,  aye,"  said 
the  old  man,  *^  I  don't  mind  it  myself,  but  to  those 
who  do,  that's  a  nice  corner  in  the  night." 

To  Mr.  Elwes,  an  inn  upon  the  road,  and  an  apo- 
thecary's shop  were  equal  subjects  of  aversion.  The 
words  give  and  pay  were  not  found  in  his  vocabu- 
lary; and  therefore,  when  he  once  received  a  very 
dangerous  kick  from  one  of  his  horses,  nothing  could 
persuade  him  to  have  any  assistance.  Pie  rode 
the  chase  through,  with  his  hg  cut  to  the  bone,  and, 
it  was  only  some  days  afterwards,  when  it  was  feared 
an  amputation  would  be  necessary,  that  he  consented 
to  go  up  to  London,  and,  hard  day !  part  with  some 
money  for  advice. 

But  not  amongst  strangers  alone  w^as  money  with  him 
the  dearest  object  of  life.  He  had  brought  with  him 
out  of  Berkshire,  two  sons,  and  certainly  if  he  liked 
anything,  it  was  these  boys;  but  no  money  would  he 
bestow  on  their  education,  for  he  declared,  that  "  put- 
ting things  into  people's  heads  was  the  sure  way  to  take 
money  out  of  their  pockets."  One  day  he  had  put 
his  eldest  boy  upon  a  ladder  to  get  some  grapes  for  the 
table,  when  by  the  ladder  slipping,  hu  tell  down  and 
hurt  his  side  against  the  edge  of  it.  The  boy  had  the 
precaution  to  go  up  ?nto  the  village  and  get  blooded. 
On  his  return  he  was  asked  where  he  had  been,  and 
what  was  the  matter  with  his  arm  ?  He  told  his  father, 
that  he  had  got  bled.  "Bled!  bled!  said  the  old 
gentleman,  but  what  did  you  o/t;^/"'  A  shilling  an- 
swered the  boy.  "  Psha  !"  returned  the  father,  "you 
are  a  blockhead  !  never  part  with  your  blood  !  " 

Yet  notwithstanding  his  perrarious  dispositioi],  he 
possessed  a  gentleness  of  manners,  which  nothing 
could  shake,  and  a  pliancy  of  temper  not  always  to 
•be  met  with  in  a  miser.  Having  been  persuaded  to 
take  a  day's  shooting  with  a  gentleman,  who  exhibit- 
ed, during  the  whole  day,  constant  proof  either  of  ill 
Vol.  11.   No.  13.  P2 


298  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

luck  or  unskilfulness,  he  at  last.  In  firing  through  a 
hedge,  lodged  several  shot  in  the  old  gentleman's 
cheek  ;  the  unfortunate  sportsman,  approaching  with 
evident  embarrassment  and  concern,  Mr.  Elwes  an- 
ticipated apology,  by  reaching  out  his  hand,  and 
saying,  "  My  dear  Sir,  I  congratulate  you  on  improv- 
ing, 1  knew  you  would  hit  something  at  last." 

It  is,  likewise,  to  be  remarked,  to  the  credit  of 
Mr.  E.lwes,  that  in  the  accumulation  of  his  wealth,  ^ 
he  never  was  guilty  of  oppressing,  or  doing  unkind 
things  to  his  neighbours^  and,  though  an  habitual 
iove  of  money  is  apt  to  render  us  too  little  scrupulous 
in  the  methods  by  which  we  procure  it,  he  w^as  so  far 
different  from  other  misers,  that  he  considered  usury 
as  an  unjustifiable  mode  of  augmenting  his  fortune* 
His  whole  system  of  heaping  up  was  founded  in  his 
depriving  himselfofalmost  every  necessary  of  life,  which 
he  carried  to  so  great  an  excess,  that  there  was  some- 
thing in  it,  which  seemed  like  a  judgment  from  Hea- 
ven. All  earthly  comforts  he  voluntarily  denied  him- 
self 3  he  would  walk  in  the  rain  over  the  one  half  of 
London,  rather  than  pay  a  shilling  for  a  coach  ;  he 
would  eat  his  provisions  in  the  last  stage  of  putrefac- 
tion sooner  than  have  a  fresh  joint  from  the  butcher's, 
and  he  once  wore  a  wig  for  above  a  fortnight, 
which  he  picked  up  in  a  gutter,  and  which  to  all  ap- 
pearance had  been  the  cast  off  wig  of  some  beggfir. 
He  has  been  known  to  risque  his  neck,  rather  than 
pay  a  penny  at  a  turnpike,  and  when,  as  rich  as  a 
nabob,  he  once,  in  a  fit  of  sickness,  that  he  might 
avoid  expences,  threw  himself  down  in  one  of  his 
empty  houses,  in  London,  where  his  friends  after 
much  search,  found  him  stretched  on  an  old  pallet 
bed,  and  ready  to  perish  for  mere  want. 

lie  once  extricated  a  neighbour  from  a  long  and 
troublesome  ecclesiastical  suit,  by  riding  sixty  miles 
on  horseback  at  midnight,  and  almost  at  a  moment's 
warning.  Such  wonderful  efforts  would  he  make 
with  alacrity,  and,  at  an  advanced  age,  to  serve  a 


DICTIONARY.  299 

person  for  whom  no  motives  or  entreaties  could  have 
prevailed  on  him  to  part  with  a  shilling.  In  this  and 
all  other  longjournies,  a  couple  of  hard  boiled  eggs,  a 
dry  crust  carried  in  his  pocket,  the  next  stream  of  wa- 
ter, and  a  spot  of  fresh  grass,  while  he  reposed  him- 
self under  the  hedge,  were  the  whole  of  the  travel- 
ing expences  of  himself  and  horse.  '   ;/ 

When  his  vast  property  was  generally  known,  ap- 
plications from  a  variety  of  quarters  were  made  to  him 
as  a  monied  man,  and  he  became  a  prey  to  every  ad- 
venturer, 'who  had  a  v/ant  and  a  scheme.  On  such 
occasions  it  was  soon  found  by  those,  who  made  a 
practical  use  of  their  knowledge,  that  paving  the 
way  with  a  little  present  was  the  surest  method  of 
succeeding  in  their  wishes.  By  these  and  other  arts 
he  was  tempted  to  advance  money  on  faulty  securi- 
ties, and  it  is  asserted,  on  unquestionable  authority, 
that  he  lost,  by  bad  debts,  a  suna  not  short  of  half  a 
million  of  dollars.  Lending  money  to  necessitous 
builders,  bankrupt  architects,  and  surveyors,  was 
another  of  his  infatuations;  by  which  means,  how- 
ever, he  became  possessed  of  many  houses  in  Lon- 
don. Inspecting  repairs,  and  overlooking  work- 
men, was  also  a  favorite  occupation  ;  but  he  would 
never  hear  of  alteration  beyond  what  was  indispensi- 
bly  necessary  to  prevent  the  building  from  tumbling. 
Indeed,  as  he  denied  such  indulgences  to  himself,  he 
could  not  be  expected  to  allow  them  to  others  ;  of 
course  he  was  a  stranger  to  what  are  called  the  com- 
forts of  a  house. 

In  1774,  on  the  prospect  of  a  contested  election 
betwixt  two  most  respectable  families  in  Berkshire, 
in  order  to  preserve  the  peace  of  the  country,  Mr. 
Elwes  was  proposed  as  a  third  person,  who  might  be 
unobjectionable  to  both  parties;  in  consequence  of 
which,  he  obtained  a  seat  in  parliament,  and  though 
then  in  his  66ih  year,  used  to  call  h'lmsd^ n  7/ou?ig 
member,  often  boasting,  that  he  came  into  parliament 
for  eighteen  pence,  which  w^as  all  he  paid  for  his 


300  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

election  dinner.  During  his  continuance  In  that  station, 
which  was  about  12  years,  the  praise  of  indepen- 
dence and  disinterestedness  cannot  be  denied  him; 
for  wishing  for  no  post,  desirous  of  no  rank,  and  want- 
ing no  emolument,  he  stood  aloof  from  all  those  temp- 
tations, which  have  led  many  good  men  astray  from 
the  paths  of  honour.  All  that  a  minister  could  have 
offered  Mr.  Elwes  would  have  been  of  no  avail,  for 
posts,  or  dignity  would  have  only  distressed  him,  as, 
by  the  acceptance  of  either,  he  must  have  unavoidably 
increased  his  expences,  and,  he  was  such  a  man, 
that  he  could  never  have  survived  the  being  oblig- 
ed to  keep  a  carriage,  with  three  or  four  servants, 
all,  perhaps,  better  dressed  than  himself.  Through 
every  period  of  his  life,  it  was  the  favourite  wish  I 
of  his  heart  to  be  thought  poor,  and  that  the  reports  * 
of  his  being  rich  were  entirely  erroneous.  To 
these  ideas,  he  thought  he  gave  strength,  by  hav-l 
ing  no  servants,  nor  any  of  the  "outward  and  visible"  * 
signs  of  wealth;  and  he  had  persuaded  hin\self,  that 
the  public  would  really  think  that  he  had  7W  moneys 
because  he  used  none. 

Our  pupil  of  frugality  was  not  without  his  amorous 
moments,  yet,  during  his  hours  of  dalliance,  when  the 
maxims  of  a  miser  are  often  found  to  relax,  he  did 
not  lose  sight  of  that  systematic  parsimonv,  which 
guided  every  action  ot  his  life.  Under  such  im- 
pressions, he  was  content  to  take  a  bed  fellow  from 
his  kitchen,  who,  without  possessing  sufficient  au- 
thority to  break  through  his  favourite  system,  might 
by  her  exact  superintendance  and  minute  inspec- 
tion, instead  of  augmenting,  diminish  the  expences 
of  his  family.  By  this  woman,  who  filled,  with  exem- 
plary propriety,  the  aukward,  double  character  of  a 
servant  and  a  favourite,  he  had  two  sons,  George  and 
John  Elwes,  Esqs.  who,  in  consequence  of  his  wrlK 
now  inherit  the  great  bulk  of  his  property. 

As  Mr,  Elwes  increased  in  years,  his  habits  became 
inveterate  and  irrational;  he  grudged  himself  food  and 


'    ''MCTIONARY,  SOI 

cloaths;  anxiety  and  fear  of  losing  his  property  were 
ever  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  and,  as  his  capucity 
sunk  by  degrees,  into  childishness,  he  watched  oppor- 
tunities of  hiding  guineas  and  bank-notes.  His  little 
store  he  would  carefully  wrap  up  in  various  papers, 
and  depositing  them  in  different  comers,  would  amuse 
himself,  with  running  from  one  to  the  other,  to  see 
whether  they  were  all  safe.  Then  forgetting,  perhaps, 
where  he  had  concealed  some  of  them,  he  would  be- 
come as  seriously  afflicted,  as  a  reasonable  man  would 
he,  who  had  lost  the  whole  of  his  property.  Nor  was 
the  day  alone  thus  spent ;  he  would  frequently  rise  in 
the  middle  of  the  night,  and  be  heard  walking  about 
different  parts  of  the  house,"  looking  after  what  he  had 
thus  hidden  and  forgotten. 

Though  far  removed  from  pecuniary  distress,  pover- 
ty was  his  continual  dread,  and  the  fever  of  accumu- 
lation raged  with  redoubled  fury,  when  the  avenues 
which  lead  to  enjoyment,  were  closed  up  for  ever. 
He  was  a  compound  cf  folly  and  sense,  of  meanness 
and  magnanimity,  a  striking  example  of  that  provok- 
ing indigence  of  wealth,  when  it  cannot  confer  hap- 
piness on  its  possessors,  of  that  aggravating  impotence 
of  gold,  when  it  does  not  enlarge  the  understanding, 
or  rouse  the  social  affections.  This  miserable  wretch, 
died  26th  November  1789,  in  the  eighty-first  year  of 
his  age,  the  last  coherent  words  he  spoke,  being  ad- 
dressed to  his  son  John  Elwes,  in  hoping  "  that  he 
bad  left  what  he  had  wished." 

EMERSON,  (William)  a  late  eminent  mathe- 
matician, was  born  near  Darlington,  England,  in  the 
..year  1701.     His  father  Dudley  Emerson  was  a  tolera- 
^bie  proficient  in  mathematics,  and  without  his  book.«^, 
and  instructions,  perhaps  the  genius  of  the  son  would 
never  have  been  properly  unfolded. 

Young  Emerson  was  instructed  in  the  learned  Ian- 


202  HEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

guages,  by  a  young  clergyman,  who  boarded  in  his 
father's  house,  and  after  he  had  made  some  progress 
in  the  classics,  he  attempted  to  commence  teacher 
himself;  but,  whether  from  the  difficulty,  under  which 
he  laboured,  in  communicating  his  ideas,  or  the  warmth 
of  his  natural  temper,  he  did  not  succeed  in  his  school. 
He,  therefore,  soon  quit  it,  and  satisfied  with  a  mo-' 
derate  competence  left  him  by  his  parents,  devoted 
himself  to  a  studious  retirement. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  a  very  singular  man  in  many  re- 
spects, but  particularly  in  the  article  of  dress.  He  had 
but  one  coat,  which  he  always  wore  open  before,  ex- 
cept the  lower  button;  no  waistcoat:  and  his  shirt  was 
quite  the  reverse  of  those  used  by  other  people,  having 
no  opening  before,  but  buttoned  close  at  the  collar 
behind.  He  wore  a  kind  of  flaxen  wig,  which  had  not 
a  crooked  hair  in  it,  and  probably  had  never  been 
combed  from  the  time  of  its  being  made. 

When  he  had  any  thing  to  publish,  he  always  walked 
up  to  London,  to  revise  the  proof  himself,  it  being  one 
of  his  favourite  maxims  to  trust  no  eyes  but  his  own. 
He  never  advanced  any  mathematical  proposition, 
which  he  had  not  first  triecl  in  practice,  constantly 
making  all  the  different  parts  himself  upon  a  small 
scale,  so  that  his  house  was  filled  with  all  kinds  of 
mechanical  instruments  together  or  disjointed.  He  , 
would  frequently  stand  up  to  his  middle  in  v^^ater, 
while  fishing,  which  he  considered  as  a  most  excellent ; 
diversion.  He  used  to  study  incessantly  for  some  time, 
and  then,  for  relaxation,  take  a  ramble  to  some  ale 
house,  where  he  could  unbend  his  mind  by  conversa-  • 
tion  with  such  persons  as  he  could  find  there.  The 
dukeof  Manchester  was  highly  pleased  with  his  com- 
pany, and  used  often  to  come  to  him  in  the  fields  and  go 
home  with  him;  but  could  never  persuade  him  to  get 
into  a  carriage.  He  w^as  a  married  man,  and  his 
wife  used  to  spin  on  an  old  fashioned  vt'heel,  whereof 
a  very  accurate  drawing  is  given  in  his  mathematics. 


DICTIONARY.  S03 

He  was  deeply  skilled  in  the  science  of  music,  the 
theory  of  sounds,  and  the  various  scales,  both  ancient 

d  modern,  but  was  a  very  poor  performer. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year,  1781,  being  sensible 
of  his  approaching  dissolution,  he  disposed  of  the 
whole  of  his  mathematical  library  to  a  bookseller  at 
York,  and  on  May  20lh,  1782,  he  died  of  a  lingering 
2nd  painful  disorder,  at  his  native  village,  in  the  eighti- 

]  year  of  his  age. 

The  following  is  a  list  of* Mr.   Emerson^s   works: 

The  doctrine  of  Fluxions.  2.  The  Projection  of  the 
Sphere,    Orthographic^    Stereographic  and  Gnomical, 

The  Elements  of  Trigonometry.  4.  TJie  Principles 
of  Mechanics,  5.  A  Treatise  on  Navigation.  G.  A  Trea- 
tise on  Algebra,  7 .  The  Arithmetic  of  Infinifes,  8 .  Me* 
chanics;  or  the  Doctrine  of  Motion.  9.  The  Elements 
of  Optics,  10.  A  system  of  Astronomy .  1 1 .  The  Lazes 
of  Centripetal  and  Centrifugal  force.  12.  The  Ma- 
thcmatical  Elements  of  Geography.  1 3 .  Cijclomathesis, 
or  an  easy  Introduction  to  the  scirral  Brandies  of  the 
Mathematics.  14.  A  short  Comment  on  Sir  Isaac  Xew- 
tons  Principia,  &ic.     15.  Tracts,  ^vo. 


ENFIELD,  (Rev.  Dr.  William)  was  born  at 

Sudbury,   in  Suffolk,  England,  April  9th.  1741.    His 

parents,  were  in  a  humble  condition  of  life,  which  they 

endered   respectable   by  their  virtues.     Hence,  his 

arly  education  was  on  the  narrow  scale  marked  out 

by  his  circumstances.     By  his  amiable  disposition  and 

promising  parts,  he  recommended  himself  to  the  Rev„ 

Mr.  Hextall,  the  dissenting  minister  of  the   place, 

nwho  treated  him  with  peculiar  notice,  and  took  plca- 

iKure  in  forn^ing  his  youthful  mind.     He  particularly 

{■awakened  in  him  a  sensibility  to  the  beauties  of  the 

»Bprincipal  English  poets,among  whom  Akenside  by  the 

rjpharms  of  his  versification,  and  the  exalted  tone  of 

is  philosophy,  was  a  pecunar  favourite  both   with 

he  instructor  and  pupil.     Indeed,  it  appears  no  un- 


S04  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

reasonable  supposition,  that  to  his  early  fondness  for 
this  author,  Dr.  Enfield  was  indebted  more  than  to 
any  other  single  circumstance,  for  that  uniform  puri-. 
ty  of  language,  that  entire  freedom  from  any  thing 
like  vulgarity,  as  well  in  conversation  as  in  writing, 
by  which  he  was  ever  distinguished.  Mr.  Hextall's 
good  opinion  was  probably  the  chief  cause  of  his  be- 
ing devoted  to  the  christian  ministry.  In  his  seven- 
teenth  ye^r,  he  w^as  sent  to  the  academy  of  Daven- 
try,  where  he  passed  the  usual  course  of  preparatory 
study  for  the  pulpit. 

It  was  a  striking  proof  of  the  attractions  he  posses- 
sed as  a  preacher,  and  as  an  amiable  man  in  society,^' 
that  almost- immediately  on  leaving  the  academy,  he 
was  invited  to  undertake  the  office  of  sole  minister  to 
the  congregation  of  Benn's  Garden  in  Liverpool,  one 
of  the  most  respectable  among  the  dissenters.  To 
that  situation  he  was  ordained  in  November  1763  ; 
and  here  he  passed  seven  of  the  happiest  years  of  his 
iife. 

In  this  place,  he  commenced  his  literary  career 
with  two  volumes  of  sermons,  printed  in  1768,  and 
1770,  which  were  very  favourably  received  by  the 
public.  Their  pleasing  moral  strain,  marked  by  no 
systematic  peculiarities,  so  well  adapted  them  for  ge- 
neral use,  that  many  congregations,  besides  that  in 
w4iich  they  were  originally  preached,  had  the  benefit 
of  the  instruction  they  conveyed.  A  collection  of 
hymns  and  family  prayers  further  added  to  his  profes- 
sional and  literary  reputation. 

On  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Seddon  of  Warring- 
ton, Mr.  Enfield  was  one  of  the  first  persons  thought 
of  bv  the  trustees  of  that  academv  to  succeed  him,,  in 
the  offices  of  tutor  in  the  belles-lettres,  and  ot  resi- 
dent conductor  of  the  discipline,  under  the  title  of 
Rector  Acadtmidc.  With  respect  to  his  fitness  for  the 
first,  no  doubt  can  be  entertained.  The  second  was 
an  untried  experiment,  depending  for  its  success  upon 
qualities,  of  temper  rarely  meeting  in  one  individual. 


DICTIONARY.  S05 

Whatever  could  be  eff?cted  by  those  amiable  endow- 
ments which  conciliate  affection,  might  be  hoped  from 
one,  who^was  become  the  delight  of  a  large  circle  of 
acquaintance  ;  but  in  those  emergencies  where  firm- 
ness, resolution,  and  a  kind  of  dignified  severity  of  con- 
duct might  be  requisite,  there  was  cause  to  appre- 
hend a  failure.  He  had  his  misgivings,  but  they 
were  overcome  by  the  encouragement  and  importu- 
nity of  friends;  and  the  offered  situation,  was,  in  seve- 
ral respects  such  as  might  flatter  a  young  man,  fond  of 
literary  society  and  ambitious  of  a  proper  field  for  the 
display  of  his  talents.  He  accepted  it,  together  with 
the  office  of  minister  to  the  dissenting  congregation  of 
Warrington.  The  occupations,  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged were  extensive  and  complicated ;  but  no  m>aa 
had  ever  a  better  right  to  confide  in  his  own  industry 
and  readiness,  ' 

Every  one  acquainted  with  the  attempts,  which  have 
been  made  by  the  British  dissenters,  to  institute  places 
of  education  for  the  advanced  periods  of  youth,  must 
have  been  sensible  of  the  extreme  difliculty  of  uniting 
the  liberal  plan  of  a  collegiate  life  with  such  a  system 
of  internal  discipline,  as  shall  secure  sobriety  of  man- 
ners and  diligence  in  the  pursuit  of  study.  Those 
sanctions,  which,  however  imperfectly,  serve  as  en- 
gines of  government  in  seminaries  established  by  the 
state,  must  ever  be  wanting  in  private  institutions, 
which  cannot  annex  to  the  grossest  violation  of  their 
laws,  a  higher  penalty  than  simple  expulsion,  followed 
by  no  disabilities  or  deprivations,  and  probably  held 
extremely  cheap  by  those,  who  have  most  deserved  it. 
Warrington  had  a  full  share  of  this  difficulty ;  and  also 
laboured  under  others,  which  rendered  its  existence, 
though,  at  times,  it  appeared  flourishing  and  respecta- 
ble, little  better  than  a  Ions  strug:sle  against  incurable 
disease.  The  efforts  of  Dr.  Enfield  were  faithfully 
joined,  with  those  of  his  colleagues  to  support  its  credit 
and  to  remedy  evils  as  they  occured  ;  but  all  was  of 

Vol.  11.  No.  14.  a  2 


306  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


I 


lis 

J 


no  avail ;  the  crisis  of  the  institution  arrived  in  178 
and  its  embarrassment  was  cured  by  its  dissolution. 

However  toilsome  and  anxious  this  period  of  Dr. 
Enfield's  life  might  have  been,  it  was  that  of  rapid 
mental  improvement.  By  the  company  he  kept,  and 
the  business  he  had  to  go  through,  his  faculties  were, 
strained  to  full  exertion :  nor  was  it  only  as  a  tutor 
that  he  employed  his  talents :  he  greatly  extended  his 
reputation  as  a  writer. 

The  degree  of  doctor  of  laws,  which  added  a  ne 
title  to  his  name,  during  his  residence  at  Warrington, 
was  conferred  upon  him  by  the  university  of  Edin- 
burgh. 

After  the  dissolution  of  the  academy.  Dr.  Enfield 
remained  two  years  at  Warrington,  occupied  in  the 
education  of  private  pupils,  and  in  the  care  of  his 
congregation.  For  the  instruction  of  the  latter,  he 
drew  up  a  series  of  discourses  on  the  principal  incidents 
and  moral  precepts  of  the  gospel,  in  which  he  display- 
ed both  his  talents  as  a  commentator,  and  his  skill  in 
expounding  into  general  lessons  of  conduct,  these  hints 
and  particular  observations,  which  occur  in  the  sacred 
narratives.  This  will  not  be  an  improper  place  to  give 
some  account  of  Dr.  Enfield's  character  as  a  preacher 
and  a  divine.  His  manner  of  delivery  was  grave  andi 
impressive,  affecting  rather  a  tenor  of  uniform  dignity, 
than  a  variety  of  expression,  for  which  his  voice  waa 
not  well  calculated. 

As  to  his  matter,  it  was  almost  exclusively  that  of  ai 
moral  preacher.  His  theological  system  was  purged 
of  every  mysterious  or  unintelligible  proposition  j  it  in- 
cluded nothing,  which  appeared  to  him  irrcconcilcable 
with  sound  philosophy,  and  the  most  rational  opinions 
concerning  the  divine  nature  and  perfections.  It  will 
be  seen  from  the  subjects  he  selected  for  publication, 
that  moral  topics^ were  more  congenial  to  him  than 
doctrinal  3  and  his  character  as  a  public  instructor  must 
hz  derived  from  the  manner  in  which  he  treated  th^m. 
Prcbably  it  will  be  found,  that  scarcely  any  writer  has 


DICTIONARY.  307 

entered  with  more  delicacy  into  the  minute  and  less 
obvious  points  of  morality ;  or  more  skilfully  marked 
out  the  nice  discriminations  of  virtue  and  vice,  of  the 
fit  and  unfit.  He  has  not  only  delineated  the  path  of 
the  strictly  right,  but  of  the  amiable  and  becoming. 
He  has  aimed  at  rendering  mankind,  not  only  mutu- 
ally serviceable,  but  mutually  agreeable,  and  has  de- 
lighted in  painting  true  goodness,  with  all  those  co- 
lours, which  it  was  said  of  old,  would  make  her  so 
cnchantins:,  should  she  ever  become  visible  to  mortal 
eyes» 

In  1785,  receiving  an  invitation  from  the  octagon- 
dissenting  congregation  at  Norwich,  a  society  with 
whom  any  man  might  esteem  it  an  honour  and  hap- 
piness to  be  connected,  he  accepted  it,  and  having 
moved  to  that  city,  for  some  years,  continued  his 
plan  of  domestic  education.  Though  he  was  emi- 
nently happy  in  his  mode  of  educating  a  small  num- 
ber, of  which  several  striking  examples  might  be  ad- 
duced, yet  like  most,  who  have  adopted  that  plan,  he 
found,  that  the  unpleasant  restraint,  arising  from  a 
party  of  young  men,  so  far  domiciliated,  that  they  left 
neither  time  nor  place  for  family  privacy,  more  than 
compensated  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  such 
an  employment  of  his  talents.  He,  therefore,  at 
length  determined  to  be  perfectly  master  of  his  own 
time,  and  to  give  to  his  family,  friends  and  spontane- 
ous literary  pursuits,  all  the  leisure  he  possessed  from 
his  professional  duties. 

He  had  not  yet  completely  detached  himself  from 
the  business  of  tuition,  when  he  undertook  the  most 
laborious  of  his  literary  tasks,  an  abridgment  of 
"Brucker's  History  of  Philosophy."  This  work  ap- 
peared in  2  vols.  4  to.  in  the  year  1791,  and  would  at 
once  have  been  sufficient  to  establish  the  writer's 
character,  as  a  master  of  an  excellent  style  of  com- 
position, and  a  judicious  selector  of  what  was  most 
valuable  in  the  representation  of  manners  and  opini- 
ons.    The  original  work  has  obtained  a  high  reputa.- 


SqS  new  biographical 

tion  amongst  the  learned,  for  the  depth  of  its  research- 
es, and  the  Hberahty  of  its  spirit;  but  its  Latin  style  is 
involved  and  prolix,  and  the  heaviness,  which  per- 
vades the  whole,  has  rendered  it  rather  a  book  for 
occasional  consultation,  than  for  direct  perusal.     But 
Dr.  Enfield's  abridgement,  is  a  work  equally  instruc- 
tive and  agreeable;  and  it  may  be  pronounced,  thatj 
the  tenets  of  all  the  leading  sects  of  philosophers  werei 
never  before  displayed  with   such  elegance  and  per- 
spicuity, in  the  English  language.     His  style,  chaste, 
clear,  correct,  free  from  all  affectation  and  singularity, 
was  proper  for  all  topics;  and  the  spirit  of  method  and 
order,  which  reigned  in  his  own  mind,  communicated 
itself   to  every  subject,   which   he    touched    upon. 
These  qualities,  together  with  that  candour,  which 
was  interwoven  in  his  very  constitution,  especially; 
fitted  him  to  take  a  part  in  a  literary  journal,  and  to) 
one  of  the  most  respectable  of  these  works,  he  was 
long  a  considerable  contributor.     The  institution  ofa^ 
new    magazine,    under  the  name   of  the  AIojit/ili/,\ 
which,  in  its  plan,  embraced  a  larger  circle  of  original 
literature  than  usual  with  these  miscellanies,  engaged 
him  to  exercise  his  powers  as  an  essayist  on  a  variety 
of  topics;  and  the  papers,  with  which  he  enriched  it, 
under  the  title  of  the  '^  Enquirer,"  obtained  great  ap-' 
plause  from  the  manly  freedom  of  their  sentiment, 
and  the  correct  elegance  of  their  language. 

In  the  year  1796,  he  felt  himself  so  much  in  the 
full  vigour  and  maturity  of  his  powers,  that  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  associate  himself  with  I.  Akin,  M.  D.  one 
of  his  oldest  and  most  intimate  companions,  in  a  lite- 
rary undertaking  of  great  merit,  which  looked  to  a 
distant  period  for  its  completion,  we  mean  a  ^*  Gen- 
eral Biographical  Dictionary."  The  composition  of 
this  work  proved  so  agreeable  to  Dr.  Enfield,  that  he 
was  often  heard  to  say,  his  hours  of  study  had  never 
passed  so  pleasantly  with  him,  and  the  progress  he 
made  was  proportioned  to  his  industry  and  good  will. 
Every  circumstance  seem.ed  to  promise  him  years  of 


DICTIONARY.  309 

comfort  in  store.  He  was  happy  himself,  and  im- 
parted that  happiness  to  all,  who  came  within  the 
sphere  of  his  influence.  But  an  incurable  disease 
was/in  the  mean  time,  making  unsuspected  advances. 
A  scirrhous  contraction  of  the  rectum,  by  deno> 
ting  itself  only  by  symptoms,  which  he  did  not  under- 
stand, was  preparing,  without  pain  or  general  disease, 
to  effect  a  sudden  and  irresistable  change.  The  very 
day  before  this  disorder  manifested  itself,  he  was 
complim.ented  on  his  chearful  spirits,  and  healthy 
looks,  and  himself  confessed,  that  he  had  nothing, 
bodily  or  mental,  of  which  he  ought  to  complain. 
But  the  obstruction  was  now  formed.  A  sickness 
came  on;  the  proper  functions  of  the  intestines  were 
suspended;  nothing  was  able  to  give  relief:  and  after 
a  week  passed  rather  in  constant  uneasiness,  than  in 
acute  pain,  with  his  faculties  entire  nearly  to  the  last, 
foreseeing  the  fatal  event  and  meeting  it  with  manly 
fortitude,  he  expired  without  a  struggle,  3d  Nov. 
1797,  in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of  his  age. 

ERASMUS (Desiderius,)  was  born  at  Rotterdam 
in  Holland  28th  October  1467.  He  lost  both  his 
parents,  before  he  had  arrived  at  his  14th  year,  in 
consequence  of  which  he  was  committed  to  the  care 
of  certain  guardians,  who  endeavoured  to  force  him 
to  be  an  ecclesiastic;  but  he,  for  a  long  time,  resisted 
their  importunity.  He  was,  however,  at  last  obliged 
to  assume  the  religious  habit,  among  the  canons  regu- 
lar, in  the  monastery  of  Stein,  near  Tcrgon,  but  after- 
wards obtained  a  dispensation  for  his  vows.  He  was 
the  most  learned  man  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived; 
and  greatly  contributed  by  his  writings  to  the  resto- 
ration of  learning  in  the  several  countries,  in  which 
he  resided  viz.  Italy,  Swirzerland,  Holland,  France, 
and  England.  With  the  last  of  these,  he  was  best 
satisfied,  being  greatly  caressed  by  ail  the  learned 
men,  particularly  by  Sir  Thomas  Moore.     His  writ- 


310  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAt 

1 

j'ngs,  which  though  then  held  in  the  highest  estimas- 
tion,  gained  him,  whilst  alive,  numerous  enemies;  for 
as  he  did  not  embrace  the  reformation,  and  yet  cen- 
sured many  things  in  the  Roman  Church,  he  hath 
t3een  treated  rigorously,  both  by  catholics  andprotes- 
tants. 

The  works  of  Erasmus,  in   10  vols,  folio,  wer 
published  at  Ley  den,  in  1706,  in  a  very  neat  man 
ner,  under  the  care  of  M.  Le  Clerc,   but  as  they  a 
too  numerous  for  us  to  particularize,   we  shall  onl 
mention  a  few  of  the  most  interesting.     l.Decon 
temptu  mundi,"  which  he  published  when  he  was 
only  in  his  20th  year.     2.  *'  De  copia  verborum,'* 
3.  "  De  conscribendis  epistolis."     4.  *'  Enchiridion 
militis  Christiani,'*  which  he  wrote,  as  he  tells  us, 
"  not  for  the  sake  of  shewing  his  eloquence,    but  to 
correct  a  vulgar  error  of  those,   who  made  religion  to 
consist  in  rites  and  ceremonies,  to  the  neglect  of  vir-« 
tue  and  true  piety."     This  publication  highly  offend- 
ed the  dominicans,  whose  clamours  against  it,  how- 
ever, only  tended  to  make  its  merit  better  known. 
5.  A  translation  from  Plutarch,  entitled,   "How  to| 
distinguish  a  friend  from  a  flatterer.**  6.  "  The  Praise  I 
of  Folly."     7.  "  Colloquies,"  which  he  drew  up  part- 1 
]y,  that  young  persons  might  have  a  book  to  teach 
them  the  Latin  tongue,  and  religion  and  morals  at 
the  same  time ;  and,  partly  to  cure  the  bigoted  world, 
if  he  could,  of  that  superstitious  devotion,  which  the 
Monks   so  industriously  propagated.     The  liveliest 
strokes  in  them,  have  the  monks  and  their  religion 
for  their  object;  on  which  account  they  no  sooner 
appeared,  than  a  most  outrageous  clamour  was  rais- 
ed against  them.     He  was  accused  of  laughing  at  in- 
dulgences,   auricular   confession,  eating  flesh  upon 
fast  days,  &c.  and  it  is  certain,  that  he  did  not  talk 
of  these  things  in  the  most  devout  way.  A  provincial 
council  held  at  Cologne  in  1549,  condemned  those 
colloquies,  as  not  fit  to  be  read  in  schools.     Let  who 
will  condemn  tbcm^,  however,  they  contain  a  treasure 


DICTIONARY.  511 

of  Wit  and  good  sense,  which  cannot  be  too  much 
admired.  8.  "  Diatribe  de  libero  arbitrio,"  against 
Luther,  which  Luther  replied  to,  in  a  treatise  entitl- 
ed, "  De  servo  arbitrio/'  in  which  he  tells  him,  that 
"  his  Diatribe,  as  to  the  manner  and  composition,  is 
very  elegant;  as  to  the  matter,  very  contemptible  and 
resembling  an  excrement  in  a  golden  dish.*'  He 
mixes  compUment,  praise,  scorn,  insult,  ridicule  and 
invective  together,  and  flings  them  at  his  head.  Eras- 
mus being  much  provoked  at  this  treatment,  imme- 
diately wrote  a  reply,  which  was  the  first  of  Hyper- 
aspistes  :  the  second  was  published  in  1 527. 

In  the  year  1535,  finding  himself  worn  down  with 
i  age,  pain  and  sickness,  he  settled  at  Basil  to  try,  if  he 
could  recover  his  health.     In  the  summer  of   1536, 
however  he  grew  worse,  and  died  July  12th,  in  the 
69th  year  of  his  age.     He  was  buried  in  the  cathedral 
I  church  of  Basil,  where  his  tomb  is  still  to  be  seen, 
I  with  a  Latin  inscription  on  the  marble,  of  which  a 
i  copy  is  inserted  in  the  first  volume  of  his  works.     By 
I  his  will,  he  left  handsome  legacies  to  his  friends,  and 
the  remainder  to   be  distributed  to  relieve  the  sick 
and  the  poor,  to  marry  young  women  and  to  assist 
young  men  of  good  characters  ;  by  which  it  appear- 
ed that  the  world  had,  at  that  time,  been  at  least,  fully 
as  liberal  in  rewarding  hterary  merit  as  it  is  at  pre- 
sent. 

Nothing  has  made  the  city  of  Rotterdam  more  fa- 
mous, than  her  giving  birth  to  this  great  man  ;  nor 
has  she  been  insensible  of  the  honour,  but  hath  testi- 
fied her  regard  to  him  in  the  following  manner.  In 
the  first  place,  the  house,  in  which  he  w^as  born,  is 
adorned  with  an  inscription,  to  inform  both  natives 
and  strangers  of  the  birth-place  of  this  illustrious  per- 
sonage. Secondly,  a  statue  of  copper,  was  erected  to 
his  memory,  which  is  greatly  admired  by  the  connois- 
seurs. It  is  in  an  open  part  of  the  city,  by  the  side  of 
a  canal,  upon  a  pedestal,  adorned  with  inscriptions, 
and  surrounded  with  iron  rails.  Thirdly,  the  college. 


$12  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

in  that  place,  bears  bis  name.  At  Basil,  likewise, 
where  he  died,  the  place  where  the  lectures  in  divinity 
are  read,  is  called  the  college  of  Erasmus,  and  thq 
founders  of  the  academy,  at  Flatbush,  Long  Island 
now  one  of  the  most  respectable  institutions  of  thq 
kind,  in  the  state  of  New-York,  have  done  honour  to 
his  memory  by  calling  it  "  Erasmus  Hall." 

Dr.  Jortin  published  his  life  in  one  volume,  4ta 
in  1758, 


E\^ANS,  (Nathaniel)  was  born  in  the  city  o 
Philadelphia,  June  8th,  1742,  and  was  sent  to  th 
academy  there,  soon  after  it  was  first  opened,  anc 
before  the  collegiate  part  of  the  institution  was  begun 
Having  spent  about  six  years  in  grammar  learning,  his 
parents,  who  were  reputable  citizens,  designing  him 
for  merchandit^e,  put  him  apprentice  ;  but  nqt  finding 
either  his  genius  or  inclination  leading  him  much  tc 
that  profession,  he  devoted  more  of  his  time  to  the 
service  of  the  muses,  than  to   the  business   of  the 
compting  house.     Soon   after  the  expiration   of  hi^. 
apprenticeship,  he  accordingly  returned  to  the  collegCji 
and  applied  himself,  with  great  diligence  to  the  study 
of  philosophy  and  the  sciences,  till  the  commencement^ 
May  30th.   1765  ;  when,   on  account  of   his   great 
merit  and  promising  genius,  he  was,  by  special  man- 
date of  the  trustees,  upon  the  recommendation  of  the 
provost  and  faculty  of  professors  complimented  witl" 
a  diploma  for  the  degree  of  Master  of  arts,  althougl" 
he   had  not  taken  the  previous   degree  of  batcheloi 
on   account  of    the   interruption,  in  his   course    of 
studies,  during  the  term  of  his  apprenticeship. 

Immediately  after  the  commencement,  he  embarked 
for  England  carrying  with  him  recommendations  to 
the  society  for  propagating  the  gospel  in  foreign  parts, 
as  a  fit  person  to  supply  the  new  mission,  then  pro- 
posed to  be  opened  for  Gloucester  county,  in  New 
Jersey.      Upon  the   society *s   nomination,    he  was 


DICTIONARY.  3l3 

admitted  into  holy  orders,  by  Doctor  Terrick,  bishop 
of  London,  who  expressed  great  satisfaction,  in  his 
examination,  and  particularly  in  tlie  perusal  of  an 
English  piece,  which  he  composed  in  a  few  minutes 
upon  a  theological  question,  which  he  was  desired  to 
give  his  sentiments  upon. 

He  returned  from  England,  and  landed  at  Phila- 
delphia, Dec.  26,  1765.  Upon  his  arrival,  he  entered 
immediately  upon  the  business  of  his  mission;  and, 
alas !  but  lived  just  lon^  enough  to  shew,  by  the 
goodness  of  his  temper,  the  purity  of  his  morals,  the 
cheerfulness  and  alTability  of  his  conversation,  the 
sublimity  and  soundness  of  his  doctrines,  and  the 
warmth  of  his  pulpit  composition,  how  well  he  was 
qualified  for  the  sacred  office  to  which  he' had  now 
wholly  devoted  himself.  He  died,  October  29th  1767, 
lamented  by  all  who  knew  him ;  and  by  none  more 
earnestly  and  affectionately,  than  his  own  congrega- 
tion, whom  he  had  not  yet  served  two  years. 

EUGENE,  (Francis)  prince  of  Savoy  was  born 
in  the  year  1663.  His  father  was  general  of  the  Swiss 
and  Grisons,  governor  of  Champagne  in  France  and 
earl  of  Soissons  ;  his  mother  was  niece  to  the  celebrated 
cardinal  Mazarine.  He  was  originally  designed  for 
the  church,  in  which  there  was  reason  to  expect,  that 
he  would  rise  to  one  of  the  most  eminent  stations,  his 
relations  on  the  side  of  both  his  parents  having  great 
influence  at  court :  but  his  father  dying  before  he  was 
ten  years  of  age,  occasioned  an  alteration,  in  his 
intended  profession,  which  was,  indeed,  by  no 
means  suitable  to  his  genius.  He  was  a  youth  of  a 
vast  spirit,  and  so  jealous  of  the  honour  of  his  family, 
that,  when  his  mother  was  banished  by  the  king's 
order  from  the  French  court  to  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, soon  after  her  husband's  decease,  he  pro- 
tested against  the  injustice  of  her  banishment,  and 
vowed  eternal  enmity  against  the  contrivers  of  it. 
Vol.  IL  No.  14.  R2 


^14  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

He  was  yet  for  a  time  trained  to  the  service  of  the 
thurchj  but  having  no  reh'sh  that  way,  he   requested 
of  the  king  to  give  him  some  military  employment. 
His   request,  however,    was   denied,  sometimes  on 
account  of  the  weakness  of  his  constitution,  and  at 
other  times  for  want  of  a  vacancy,   or  because  there 
was  no  war  to  employ  the  troops.    Apprehending  from 
hence,  that  he  was  not  likely  to  be  promoted,  accord- 
ing to  what  he  thought  his  deserts,  in  France;  and 
perceiving,  that  he  was  involved  in  the  disgrace  of  his"" 
mother,  he   resolved  to   retire   to  Vienna,  with  his 
brother  Prince  Philip,  to  whom  the  emperor's  ambasr 
sadorhad,  in  his  master's  name,  promised  a  regiment 
of  horse.     They  were  kindly  received  by  the  emperor, 
with  whom  Eugene  immediatly  became  a  very  great 
favourite.     He  had,  in  the  mean  time,  many  flattering 
invitations  to  return  to  France,  but  his  fidelity  to  the 
emperor  remained  unshaken,  and  he  resolved  to  spend 
his  life  in  the  service  of  the  house  of  Austria. 

The    war   betwen   the   emperor  and   the  Turks, 
afforded  the  first  opportunity  of  exerting  his  military 
talents ;  and  every  campaign  proved  a  new  step  in  his 
advancernent  to  the  highest  offices  in  the  army.    He,  ia 
1 697,  gave  the  Turks  a  memorable  defeat  at  Zenta  J 
near  Peterwarden;  and   afterwards  commanded  the* 
German  forces  in  Italy,  where  he  foiled  the   French 
general,  Marshal  Viileroy  in  every  engagement,  ancfl 
at  length   took  him   prisoner.      His   victories   over* 
the  Turks,  and  afterwards  over  the  French,  which 
are  too  numerous  to  be  detailed  in   this  w'ork,  have 
rendered  his  name  immortal  in  the  annals  of  fame* 
But  he,  in  particular,  signalized   himself  greatly  in 
that  war,  in  which  the  emperor  united  with    Queen 
Anne  of  England,  to  curb  the  exorbitant  power  of 
Lewis  XIV.     We  shall  not  enlarge  upon  the  many 
memorable   things,  which  were  performed   by  this 
great  statesman  and  soldier,   during   the   course  of 
this  war,  which  proved  so  fatal  to  the  ambition  of  the 


DICTIONARY,  315 

Grand  Monarch,  The  battles  of  Schellinburg,  Blen- 

ham,  Turin  Sec.  Szc.  are  so  particularly  related  in  al. 

most  innumerable  histories,  that  it  would  be  needless 

to  insist  upon  them  here. 

This  illustrious  hero  died  at  Vienna,  April   10th 

1736,  in  his  73d  year.  He  was  found  dead  in  his 
bed,  though  he  had  been  very  gay  the  night  before 
.  with  company,  whom  he  had  entertained  at  supper 
without  making  the  least  complaint  ;  and  it  was  sup- 
posed, that  he  was  choaked  by  an  immoderate  deflux- 
ion  of  rheum,  with  which  he  was  sometimes  trou- 
bled. He  was  a  man  no  less  remarkable  for  his  ge- 
nerosity, than  for  his  transcendent  abilities  in  the  field 
and  in  the  cabinet,  and  of  so  great  and  unaffected 
modesty,  that  he  could  scarcely  bear  with  any  tolera- 
ble grace,  the  just  acknowledgments,  which  were  al- 
most universally  paid  him, 

EULER,  (Leonard)  was  born  at  Basil,  in  Swit- 
*?erland,  14th  April,  1707.  After  being  instructed  in 
the  first  principles  of  learning,  by  his  father,  who  was 
minister  of  the  village  of  Richen,  he  was  sent  to  the 
university  of  Basil,  where  he  made  great  progress  in 
all  the  academical  studies  of  that  seminary  ;  but  par- 
ticularly in  geometry,  which  soon  became  his  favour- 
ite pursuit ;  and  in  consequence  of  his  rapid  improve- 
ment in  that  science,  he  obtained  a  distinguished 
place  in  the  esteem  of  professor  John  Bernouilli,  who 
was,  at  that  time,  one  of  the  first  mathematicians  in 
Europe. 

In  172S,  Mr.  Euler  took  his  degree  as  Master  of 
Arts,  and  afterwards,  at  his  father's  desire,  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  theology  and  the  oriental  lan- 
guages, in  which  studies,  though  foreign  to  his  predo- 
minant propensity,  his  success  was  very  considerable  j, 
but,  after  some  time,  he  was  permitted  by  his  father 
to  return  to  geometry-  as  his  principal  object.  He 
continued  all  this  time,  to  avail  himself  of  the  couneel 


316  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

and  instructions  of  Mr.  Bernouilli,  and  had  also  con- 
tracted an  intimate  acquaintance  with  two  of  his  son^ 
through  whose  means,  he  afterwards  became  the  prin 
cipal  ornament  of  the  academy  of  sciences,  at  Pe 
tersburgh.      The  project  of  erecting  this  academy^ 
which  had  been  formed  by  Peter  the  Great,  was  ex 
cuted  by  Catharine  I.  and  the  two  young  Bernouilli 
being  invited  thither  in    1725,  promised  Euler,  wb 
was  desirous  of  following  them,  that  they  would  u 
their  utmost  endeavours  to  procure  him  a  place  in  it. 
In  the  mean  time,  he,  by  their  advice,  applied  him- 
self to  the  study  of  physic,  and  attended  the  medical 
lectures  of  the  most  eminent  professors  of  Basil.     This 
study,  however,  did  not  wholly  engross  his  time  ,  net 
relax  the  activity  of  his  comprehensive  mind,  in  the 
cultivation  of  other  branches  of  natural  science ;  fot 
whilst  he  was  keenly  engaged  in  medical  researches^ 
he  composed  "A  Dissertation  on  the  Nature  and  Pro- 
pagation of  Sound,"  and  an  answer  to  a  prize  question 
concerning  the  masting  of  ships,  to  which  the  aca- 
demy of  sciences  at  Paris  adjudged  the  accessit  or  se- 
cond rank.     From  this  latter  discourse,  and  other  cir- 
cumstances, it  appears  that  Euler  had  early  embarked 
in  the  curious  and  important  study  of"  navigation! 
which  he  afterwards  enriched  with  so  many  valuablj 
discoveries.  i| 

Soon  after  this,  he  was  called  to  St.  Petersburgh 
and  was  admitted  as  an  assistant  professor  in  the  uni 
versity  of  that  city.  At  his  first  setting  out  i*n  h' 
new  career,  he  enriched  the  academical  collectio 
with  many  memoirs,  which  excited  a  noble  emula^ 
tion  between  him  and  the  Bernouillis ;  and  this  emu- 
lation always  continued,  without  either  degeneratin 
into  a  selfish  jealousy,  or  producing  the  least  alterf 
tion  in  their  friendship.  It  was,  at  this  time,  that  he 
carried  to  new  degrees  of  perfection  the  integral  cal- 
culus, invented  the  calculation  of  sines,  reduced  ana-; 
lytical  operations  to  a  greater  simplicity,  and  thus  was 
enabled  to  throvir  new  light  on  all  the  parts  of  mathe- 


DICTIONARY.  317 

matical  science.  In  1730,  he  was  promoted  to  the 
professorship  of  natural  philosophy,  and  in  1733  he 
succeeded  his  friend  D.  Bernouilli  in  the  mathemati- 
cal chair.  In  1735,  a  problem  was  proposed  by  the 
academy,  which  required  expedition,  and  for  the  so- 
lution of  which,  several  eminent  mathematicians  had 
demanded  the  space  of  some  months.  The  problem 
was  solved  by  Euler  in  three  days,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  academy ;  but  the  violent  and  laborious 
efforts  it  cost  him  threw  him  into  a  fever,  which  en- 
dangered his  life,  and  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his 
right  eye.  The  academy  of  sciences  at  Paris,  which 
in  1738,  had  adjudged  the  prize  to  his  memoir  con- 
cerning the  nature  and  properties  of  fire,  proposed  for 
the  year  1740,  the  important  subject  of  the  sea  tides; 
a  problem,  whose  solution  required  the  most  ardu- 
ous calculation  and  comprehended  the  theory  of  the 
solar  system.  This  prize  Euler  did  not  gain  alone  ; 
but  he  divided  it  with  the  celebrated  Colin  M'Laurin 
and  D.  Bernouilli.  Rarely,  if  ever,  did  such  a  brilli- 
ant competition  adorn  the  annals  of  the  academy  ; 
and  no  subject,  perhaps,  proposed  by  that  learned 
body  was  ever  treated  with  such  accuracy  of  investi- 
gation and  force  of  genius,  as  that,  which  here  dis- 
played the  philosophical  powers  of  these  three  extra- 
ordinary men. 

In  1741,  Mr.  Euler  received  an  invitation  from 
Frederic  II.  of  Prussia,  to  repair  to  the  academy  of 
sciences  at  Berlin,  with  which,  after  some  hesitation, 
he  thought  proper  to  comply.  He  accordingly  en- 
riched the  last  volume  of  the  "  Melanges  de  Berlin,'* 
with  five  essays,  which  make  an  eminent,  perhaps 
the  principal  figure  in  that  collection.  These  were 
followed  by  a  great  number  of  important  researches, 
which  are  scattered  through  the  memoirs  of  the  Prus- 
sian academy,  of  which  a  volume  has  been  regularly 
published  every  year,  since  its  first  establishment  in 
1744.  No  part  of  his  multifarious  labours  is,  perhaps, 
a  more  wonderful  proof  of  the  extensiveness  and  fa- 


318  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

cility  of  his  genius,  than  what  he  executed  at  Berlin, 
at  a  time  when  he  still  continued  his  philosophical 
contributions  to  the  academy  of  Petersburgh,  which, 
on  account  of  his  transcendent  merit,  granted  him  a 
pension  in  1742, 

It  was  with  much  difficulty,  that  this  great  man 
obtained,  in  1766,  permission  from  the  king  of  Prus- 
sia to  return  to  Petersburgh,  where  he  desired  to  pass 
the  remainder  of  his  days.  Soon  after  his  return, 
which  was  well  rewarded  by  the  munificence  oi 
Catharine  II.  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  disorder^ 
which  terminated  in  the  total  loss  of  his  sight.  It 
was  in  this  distressing  situation,  that  he  dictated  U 
his  servant:,  who  was  totally  ignorant  of  every  part  ol 
mathematical  learning,  his  knowledge  of  algebra, 
v/hich,  by  its  intrinsic  merit,  in  point  of  method  and 
perspicuity,  and  the  unhappy  circumstances,  in  which 
it  .was  composed,  has  equally  excited  applause  and 
astonishment.  This  work,  though  purely  elementary, 
discovers  the  palpable  characteristics  of  an  inventive 
genius ;  and  it  is  here  alone,  that  we  meet  a  com- 
plete theory  of  the  analysis  of  Diophantus. 

About  this  time,  Mr.  Euler,  was  honoured  by  the 
academy  of  sciences  at  Paris,  with  the  place  of  one  of 
the  foreign  members  of  that  learned  body  ;  and  after 
this,  the  academical  prize  was  adjudged  to  three  of  his 
memoirs,  "  Concerning  the  Inequalities  in  the  mo- 
tions of  the  Planets.'*  The  two  prize  questions  propo- 
sed by  the  same  academy  for  1769  and  1772,  were 
designed  to  obtain  from  the  labours  of  astronomers,  a 
more  perfect  theory  of  the  moon,  Mr.  Euler,  was  a 
competitor  for  these  prizes,  and  obtained  them  both. 
In  this  last  memoir,  he  reserved  for  further  considera- 
tion several  inequalities  of  the  moon's  motion,  which 
he  could  not  determine  in  his  first  theory,  on  account 
of  the  complicated  calculations,  in  which  the  me- 
thod he  then  employed,  had  engaged  him.  He  had 
the  courage  afterwards  to  review  his  whole  theory. 


DICTIONARY.  $l§ 

With  the  assistance  of  his  Son,  and  Messieurs  KrafFt, 
and  Lexell,  and  to  pursue  his  researches  until  he  had 
constructed  the  new  tables,  which  appeared  together 
with  this  great  work  in  1772.  Instead  of  confining 
himself  as  before  to  the  fruitless  integration  of  three 
differential  equations  of  the  second  degree,  which  are 
furnished  by  mathematical  principles,  he  reduced 
them  to  three  ordinates,  which  determine  the  place 
of  the  moon:  he  divided  into  classes  all  the  inequa- 
lities of  that  planet,  as  far  as  they  depend  either  on  the 
elongation  of  the  sun  and  moon,  or  upon  the  eccen- 
tricity, the  paralax,  or  the  inclination  of  the  lunar 
Drbit.  All  these  means  of  investigation  employed 
^ith  such  art  and  dexterity  as  could  only  be  expected 
Tom  an  analytical  genius  of  the  first  order,  were  at- 
:ended  with  the  greatest  success;  and  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  observe,  without  admiration,  such  immense 
:alculations  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other,  the 
ngenious  methods  employed  by  this  great  man  to 
ibridge  them,  and  to  facilitate  their  application  to  the 
eal  motion  of  the  moon.  But  this  admiration  will 
)ecome  astonishment,  when  we  consider,  at  what  pe- 
iod  and  under  what  circumstances,  all  this  was  ef- 
"ected  by  «Mr.  Euler.  It  was,  when  he  was  totally 
)lind,  and  consequently  obliged  to  arrange  all  his 
:omputations  by  the  sole  powers  of  his  memory,  and 
lis  genius.  It  was,  when  he  was  embarrassed  1n  his 
iomestic  circumstances  by  a  dreadful  fire,  which  had 
onsumed  great  part  of  his  substance,  and  forced  him 
0  quit  a  ruined  house,  of  which  every  corner  was 
mown  to  him  by  habit,  which,  in  some  measure,  sup- 
)lied  him  the  place  of  sight.  It  was,  in  these  cir- 
mmstances,  that  Euler  composed  a  work,  which 
done  was  sufficient  to  render  his  name  immortal. 
The  heroic  patience,  and  tranquility  of  mind,  which 
le  displayed  here  needs  no  description ;  and  he  de- 
lved them  not  only  from  the  love  of  science,  but 
rom  the  power  of  religion.  His  philosophy  was  too 
genuine  and  sublime  to  stop  its  analysis  at  mechani- 


S20  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

cal  causes;  it  led  him  to  that  divine  philosophy  of  re- 
ligion, which  ennobles  human  nature,  and  can  alone 
form  a  habit  of  true  magnanimity  and  patience  in 
sufferings. 

Some  time  after  this,  the   famous  Wehtzell,  by 
couching  the  cataract,  restored   Mr.  Euler's  sight  j 
but  the  satisfaction  and  joy,  which  this  successful  op- 
eration  produced,  were  of  short  duration.     Some  in- 
stances of  negligence  on  the  part  of  his  surgeons, 
and  his  own  impatience,  to  use  an  organ  whose  cure 
was  not  completely  finished,   deprived  him  of  his 
sight  a  second  time  ;  and  this  relapse  was  accom- 
panied  with  tormenting  pain.     He,  however,  with 
the  assistance  of  his  sons  and  of  Messrs.  Kraft  and 
Lexcll,  continued  his  labours,  neither  the  loss  of  his 
sight,  nor  the  infirmities  of  an  advanced  age,  being 
able  to  damp  the  ardour  of  his  genius.     He  had  en- 
gaged to  furnish  the  academy  of  Petersburgh,  with  as 
many  memoirs,  as  would  be  sufficient  to  fill  their  vo- 
lumes for  twenty  years  after  his  death,  and  it  is  pro- 
bable, that  he  kept  his  word,  having  presented  se- 
venty papers  in  the  course  of  his  life,  and  left  two 
hundred  and  fifty  more  behind  him  ;  nor  is  there  oi 
of  these,  which  does  not  contain  a  discovery,  or  somi 
thing,  which  may  lead  to  one.  Such  of  these  memoii 
as  were  of  ancient  date,  were  separated  from  the  re 
and  form  a  collection,  which   was  published  in   tl 
year  1782,  under  the  title  of  "  Analytical  WorksT 
Euler's  knowledge  was  more  universal  than  coul 
be  well  expected  in  one,  who  had  pursued,  with  such 
unremitting  ardour,  mathematics  and  astronomy  as 
his  favourite  object.      He  had  made  a  very  considcv 
rable  progress,  in  medical,  botanical  and  chemic^ 
science.     What  was  still  more  extraordinary,  he  waf 
an  excellent  scholar,  and  possesed  what  is  generally 
called  erudifion^m  a  very  high  degree.     He  had  rej 
with  attention  and  taste,  the  most  eminent  writers 
ancient  Rome  ;  the  civil  and  literary  history  of  ; 
ages  and  nations  was  familiar  to  him  3  and  foreign 


DICTIONARY.  S2l 

ers,  who  were  only  acquainted  with  his  works,  w^re 
astonished  to  find  in  the  conversation  of  a  man,  whose 
long  life  seemed  solely  occupied  in  mathematical  and 
physical  discoveries,  such  an  extensive  acquaintance 
with  the  most  interesting  branches  of  literature.  In 
this  respect,  no  doubt,  he  was  much  indebted,  to  a 
very  uncommon  memory,  which  seemed  to  retain 
every  idea  once  conveyed  to  it,  either  from  reading  or 
meditation.  He  could  repeat  Virgil's  ^neid  from 
begining  to  end,  without  hesitation,  and  indicate  the 
first  and  last  line  of  every  page  of  the  edition  he  used. 
Several    attacks  of  a  vertigo,  in  the  beginning  of 

epteraber  1783,  which  did  not  prevent  his  calculating 
the  motions  of  the  aerostatical  globes,  were,  never- 

beless,  the  forerunners  of  his  mild  and  happy  passage 

rom  this  world  to  a  better.  On  the  evening  of  the 
venth,  whilst  he  was  amusing  himself  with  one  of 
is  grand  children,  he  was  struck  with  an  apoplexy, 
hich,  in  a  few  hours,  terminated  his  illustrious  career, 

t  the  age  of  76. 

FABRE,  (D'Eglantine)  was  born  at  Chalons, 
h  Champaigne,  France;  in  1759.  He  was  educated  in 
lite  literature  and  natural  philosophy  ;  and  from  his 
outh  felt  an  invincible  inclination  to  court  the  muses, 
n  the  year  1786,  he  published  in  a  French  periodical 
ork,  entitled  "  Les  Etrennes  du  Parnasse,"  a  little 
oem  called  "  Chalons  sur  Marne,"  in  which  he 
rewavery  charming  picture  of  the  moral  pleasures, 
hich  were  to  be  found  in  that  place  and  its  neigh- 
Urhood.  This  piece,  however,  was  then  considered 
a  juvenile  composition,  and  fell  very  short  of  produc- 
ng  that  degree  of  celebrity,  which  its  author  after- 
ards  attained. 

In  the  years  1789  and  1790,  he  [VQblished  two  well 

nown  comedies;    **  La  Philinte,"    and   L'Intrigue 

pistolaire  ;'*  and  soon  after  appeared  as  a  performer 

the  theatres  of  Lyons  and  Nesmis.     In  this  station, 

iOwever,  he   did  not  long  continue ;  for,  being  con- 

Vol  IL  No.  13.  S2 


322  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

^idered  as  a  great  patriot,  be  was  chosen  as  a  deputy 
to  the  National  Convention.  In  that  assembly,  during 
the  winter  and  spring  of  the  year  1793, -his  conduct 
was  far  from  being  commendable.  It  was  generally 
understood,  at  Paris,  that,  in  conjunction  withDanton 
and  Robespierc,  he  contributed  not  a  little  towards 
effecting  the  infamous  arrest  of  the  Brissotines,  on  the 
3 1st  May.  A  few  days  after  that  event,  he  observed  to 
a  friend,  that  the  domineering  spirit  of  the  Girondines, 
•who  had  engrossed  all  the  power  and  offices  of  the 
state,  had  compelled  him  and  his  colleagues,  in  order 
to  shake  off  the  yoke,  to  throw  themselves  into  the 
hands  of  the  Sanscullottcrie,  He  could  not  help, 
however,  foreboding  dangerous  consequences  from 
the  proceedings  of  that  day,  as  the  same  mob,  which 
had  been  taught  to  despise  the  legislature,  might,  at 
the  instigation  of  another  faction,  overthrow  him  and 
his  friends  in  their  turn.  This  presentiment  of  Fabre 
was  afterwards  but  too  fully  verified. 

On  the  removal  of  the  Girondines  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Mountain  party  in  power,  Fabre  be- 
gan to  act  a  considerable  part.  He  was  appointed 
a  member  of  the  committee  of  public  instruction, 
and,  in  that  station.  In  the  month  of  August,  1793, 
gave  his  vote  for  suppressing  all  academies  and  lite- 
rary corporations,  which  he  alledged,  from  their  pri- 
vileges and  aristocratic  spirit,  ought  to  be  considered 
as  inimical  to  a  republican  government. 

But  the  most  remarkable  of  Fabre's  transactions 
as  a  legislator,  was  his  submitting  to  the  convention^  || 
in  the  month  of  October,  1793,  the  plan  of  a  new   ' 
calendar,  which  was  soon  after  adopted  by  that  body, 
and   is   still   continued   by   the   present  government 
of  France.     In  this  calendar,  the  year  commences  at   i 
mid-night,  on  the  beginning  of  that  day,  on  which  the  | 
true  autumnal  equinox  fails,  by  the  observatory  of 
Paris.     The  year  is  divided  into  12  equal  months  of  i 
SO  days  each,  after  wliich,  five  supplementary  days  || 
gr/.  o.jje(]  ^Q  complete  the  365  days  of  the  year.    Each 


DIOCTINA^RY.  $23 

month  IS  divided  into  three  decades  of  10  days  each, 
distinguished  by  the  names  1st,  2d  and  3d,  decade. 
Such  is  the  plan  of  the  French  calendar,  the  pro- 
jector of  which  Fabre  d'Eglantine,  has  been  highly 
extolled  by  some  writers,  as  having,  in  its  execution, 
evinced  an  uncommon  degree  of  knowledge  in  rria- 
thematics  and  natural  philosophy.  For  our  part,  how- 
ver,  wc  can  see  much  to  censure,  but  very  little  to 
commend  in  this  new-fangled  mode  of  reckoning 
time.  The  number  of  days  in  the  French  year  is  ex- 
actly the  same  with  that  which  had  been  universally- 
adopted  by  civilized  nations,  many  centuries  before. 
The  names  of  the  months,  although,  in  some  degree, 
appropriate  to  the  seasons  of  the  year,  &;c.  on  this 
side  of  the  equator,  will  be  quite  the  reverse  on  the 
other  ;  for,  who  does  not  know,  that,  whilst  it  is  mid- 
summer in  the  northern  hemisphere,  it  is  mid-winter 
in  the  southern,  and  vice  versa  F  The  substitution  of 
ciecades  instead  of  weeks,  in  the  division  of  the  month 
can  be  assigned  to  no  other  reason  than  a  scheme  to 
eradicate  the  christian  religion,  by  the  abolition  of  the 
sabbath.  Hence,  as  might  have  been  reasonably  ex- 
pected this  impolitic,  not  to  say  impious  attempt  exci- 
ted the  indignation  of  all  denominations  of  christians 
and  created  a  more  universal  odium  against  the  con- 
vention, than  had  been  occasioned  by  any  of  their 
previous  proceedings.  Nor  was  this  disgust  confined 
to  France :  it  extended,  likewise,  to  Great  Britain 
and  several  other  countries  of  Europe,  in  all  of  which, 
it  alienated  the  affections  of  many,  who  had  been 
formerly  warmly  attached  to  the  French  Republic. 
The  truth  is,  that  many  of  the  friends  of  religion, 
though  opposed  to  the  exclusive  establishment  of  any 
one  sect  or  party,  as  a  national  church,  could  not  help 
viewing  with  abhorrence  the  ascendency  ot  a  new 
and  unprincipled  faction,  who  discovered  no  less  zeal 
to  extirpate  Christianity,  in  every  possible  shape,  than, 
the  Roman  church  had  done  in  latter  times  to  sup- 
press, what  she  termed^  heresy  and  schism.     But  it 


324  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

likewise  appears,  that  this  celebrated  calendar,  which 
is  said  to  have  reflected  so  much  honour  on  its  author, 
had  not  even  the  charms  of  novelty  to  recommend 
it.  It  accordingly  gave  birth  to  a  pleasant  pamphlet, 
entitled,  "  Le  Legislateur  a  la  Mode,"  in  which  it  was 
clearly  proved,  that  the  3^1  st  chapter  of  the  travels  of 
Anacharsis  by  the  Abbe  Barthelemy,  where  the  des* 
cription  of  the  ancient  Greek  calendar  was  introduc- 
ed, had  furnished  the  leading  ideas  in  the  calendar  of 
Tabre  d 'Eglantine. 

In  the  winter  of  1794,  the  Mountain par/tj  had  split 
into  two  divisions,  the  Jacobms  and  the  Cordeliers j  or 
in  other  words,  the  followers  of  Robespiere,  and  the 
followers  of  Danton.  Fabre  was  of  the  party  of  the 
latter,  and  was  arrested  and  confined  with  Danton's 
other  adherents,  in  the  prison  of  the  Luxemburg,  in 
March  1794.  From  that  prison,  he  wrote  a  number 
of  letters  which  were  afterwards  printed,  and  have 
been  greatly  extolled,  as  beautiful  exhibitions  of  ta- 
lents and  sensibih'ty  in  distress.  After  a  month's  im- 
prisonment, he  was  guilotined  along  with  several 
others  on  the  5th  April  1794,  being  then  in  the  35th 
year  of  his  age. 

FARINELLI,  (Carlo  Broschi)  was  born  at 
Naples,  in  1705 ;  and,  being  trained  to  singing,  he 
had  acquired  great  reputation  at  Rome  and  at  Bolog- 
na. The  fame  of  his  great  talents  reaching  England, 
he  was  engaged  to  sing  at  the  opera  in  London,  in  the 
year  1734  :  for  England  then  was,  as  it  has  ever  been 
since,  the  best  place  in  the  world  for  all  the  fiddlers, 
singers,  dancers,  tumblers,  sharpers,  and  impostors 
of  every  kind,  to  flock  to  and  grow  rich.  His  arrival 
was  announced  to  the  public,  in  the  News-papers,  as 
an  event  worthy  of  national  attention;  and  he  was  no 
sooner  recovered  from  the  fatigue  of  his  journey,  than 
he  v/as  introduced  to  the^king  at  St.  James's,  and  sung 


DICTIONARY,  325 

before  him  and  the  royal  family,   the  princess  royal 
accompanying  him  on  the  harpsicord. 

Upon  what  terms,  Farinelli  was  engaged-to  sing  on 
the  London  theatre,  is  not  known  to  a  certainty  :  liis 
salary,  however,  be  it  what  it  might,  bore  but  a  small 
proportion  to  the  annual  amount  of  his  profits.  The 
excessive  fondness,  which  the  nobility  discovered  for 
this  person,  the  applauses  they  bestowed  on,  and  the 
presents  they  made  him,  indicated  little  less  than  infa- 
tuation ;  their  bounty  was  prodigality,  and  their  ap- 
plause adoration.  *'One  God,  one  King,  and  one 
Farinelli,"  was  the  enthusiastic  and  impious  exclarna- 
tion  of  a  lady  of  exalted  rank  and  fortune,  which  she 
uttered  aloud  from  the  boxes,  on  being  charmed  with 
a  particular  passage  in  one  of  his  songs.  The  cun- 
ning eunuch,  however,  despised  their  praise,  re-paid 
respect  with  insult,  and  pocketing  their  gold,  left  the 
kingdom  in  1737. 

Soon  after  his  departure  from  England,  he  visited 
Versailles ;  but  the  French  happened  to  be  then  too 
wise,  to  gratify  his  exorbitant  demands.  It  happen- 
ed, about  this  time,  that  the  King  of  Spain  laboured 
inider  a  melancholy  disorder,  for  which  no  relief  could 
be  suggested  but  music  ;  and  the  Queen  to  make 
this  as  delightful  to  him  as  possible,  sent  for  Farinelli. 
On  his  arrival  at  Madrid,  he  had  a  pension  fixed  upon 
him  of  about  14,000  dollars  per  annum.,  with  a  coach 
and  equipage  at  the  King's  expence.  Upon  the 
death  of  Philip  V.  he  was  continued  in  his  station  by 
Ferdinand  VI.  and,  in  1750,  was  honoured  with  the 
cross  of  Calatrava,  the  badge  of  a  very  ancient  order 
of  knighthood,  in  Spain.  He  continued  in  that  king- 
dom till  about  1761,  at  which  time  he  returned  to 
his  native  country,  where  he  lived  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Bologna,  nearly  about  20  years,  in  a  style  of 
princely  magnificence. 


526  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

FARQUHAR,  (George)  an  ingenious  poet,  and^ 
dramatic  writer,  the  son  of  a  clergyman  in  Ireland, 
was  born  in  Londonderry,  in  1678.  There  he  re-' 
ccived  the  rudiments  of  education,  and  evinced  a 
genius  early  devoted  to  the  muses.  When  he  ^(^as 
very  young,  he  gave  specimens  of  his  poetry,  and  dis-i 
covered  a  force  of  thinking,  and  turn  of  express  on 
much  beyond  his  years.  In  1694,  he  v/as  sent  to 
Trinity  college,  Dublin,  w^here  he  made  great  pro- 
gress in  his  studies ;  but  his  gay  and  volatile  dispo- 
sition not  relishing  the  restraints  of  a  college  life,  he 
soon  quit  it  and  betook  himself  to  the  stage.  He  had 
the  advantage  of  a  good  person,  and  was  well  receiv- 
ed as  an  actor ;  for  which  reason  he  had  determined 
to  continue  on  the  stage,  till  something  better  should 
occur.  His  resolution,  however,  was  soon  broken 
by  an  accident,  whereby  he  had  nearly  turned  a  feign- 
ed tragedy  into  a  real  one  :  for  having  dangerously 
v/ounded  a  brother  actor,  in  a  tragic  scene,  by  for- 
getting to  change  his  sword  for  a  foil,  it  shocked  him 
so  much,  that  he  determined  never  more  to  appear 
on  the  stage. 

In  1696,  he  went  to  London,  where  he  was  solicit- 
ed by  his  friend  Wiiks,  the  celebrated  actor,  to  write 
a  play ;  but  he  was  still  more  substantially  invited 
by  a  genteel  appointment,  which  suffered  him  to 
exercise  his  genius  at  his  leisure  ;  for  the  earl  of  Or- 
rery, who  was  a  patron  as  well  as  master  of  let- 
ters, gave  him  a  lieutenant's  commission  in  his 
own  regiment,  which  he  held  for  several  years,  and 
gave  many  proofs,  both  of  conduct  and  courage.  In 
1698,  he  wrote  his  first  comedy,  called  "Love  and 
a  Bottle,"  which  for  its  sprightly  dialogue  and  busy 
scenes,  w^as  well  received.  In  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1700,  which  was  the  year  of  the  jubilee  at  Rome, 
he  brought  out  his  "Constant  Couple,  or  a  Trip  to 
the  Jubilee;"  and  suited  Mr.  Wilk's  talents  so  well, 
in  the  character  of  Sir  Harry  Wildair,  that  the  play- 
er gained  almost  as   much  reputation  as  the  poet. 


DICTIONARY.  327 

This  tempted  him  to  continue  it,  in  another  come- 
dy called  "  Sir  Harry  Wildair,  or  The  Sequel  of 
the  Trip  to  the  Jubilee."  His  other  comedies  are 
"  The  Inconstant,  or  the  Way  to  win  him."  "  The  Stage 
Coach,"  "  The  Twin  Rivals,"  "  The  Recruiting 
Officer,"  and"  The  Beaux's Stratagem."  He  also  pub- 
lished his  "  Miscellanies,  or  Collection  of  Poems,  Let- 
ters and  Essays,"  which  contain  a  variety  of  humorous 
and  pleasant  sallies  of  fancy. 

Before  Mr.  Farquhar's  marriage,  in  the  year  1703,  his 
manner  of  life  had  been  rather  dissipated.  The  lady, 
therefore,  who  afterwards  became  his  wife,  having 
fallen  violently  in  love  with  him,  and  judging  that  a 
gentleman  of  his  humour  w^ould  not  be  easily  dravv'n 
into  the  trammels  of  matrimony,  contrived  to  have  it 
given  out,  that  she  was  possessed  of  a  large  fortune, 
and  finding  means  afterwards  to  let  Air.  Farquhar 
know  her  attachment  towards  him,  interest  and  van- 
ity got  the  better  of  his  passion  for  hberty,  and  the 
lady  and  he  were  united  in  the  bands  of  hymerh. 
But  how  great  was  his  disappointment,  when  he  found 
all  his  prospects  overclouded  so  early  in  life,  (for  he 
was  then  only  in  his  24th  year)  by.  a  marriage  from 
which  he  had  nothing  to  expect,  but  a  rapid  increase 
of  family,  and  an  enlargement  of  ex  pence  in  con- 
tJequence  of  it,  far  beyond  what  his  income  would 
support.  Yet  to  his  honour  be  it  told,  that,  though 
he  found  himself  thus  deceived  in  a  most  essential 
particular,  he  never  was  known  to  upbraid  hrs  wife 
with  it,  but  on  the  contrary,  behaved  to  her  with  all 
the  tenderness  and  delicacy  of  the  most  indulgent 
husband.  Mrs.  Farquhar,  however,  did  not  very 
long  enjoy  the  happiness  she  h?d  purchased  by  this 
stratagem  ^  for  the  circumstances,  which  attended 
this  union,  were,  very  probably,  the  means  of  shorten- 
ing her  husband's  life.  For,  finding  himself  conside- 
rably involved  in  debt,  in  consequence  of  their  in- 
creasing family,  he  was  induced  to  make  application 
to  a  certain  nobh  courtier,  who  had  formerly  given 


328  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

him  many  professions  of  friendship.  This  pretended 
patron  repeated  his  former  declarations;  but,  express- 
ing much  concern,  that  he  had  nothing  immediately 
in  his  power,  advised  him  to  convert  his  commission 
into  the  money  he  wanted,  and  .pledged  his  honor, 
that  he  would,  in  a  short  time,  procure  him  another. 
Farquhar,  who  could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  his' 
wife  and  family  being  in  distress,  followed  his  advice, 
but  to  his  great  mortification,  and  disappointment, 
found,  on  a  renewal  of  his  application  to  this  inhu- 
man nobleman,  that  he  had  either  entirely  forgotten, 
or  had  never  intended  to  perform  the  promise  he| 
had  made  him.  This  distracting  frustration  of  all  his^ 
hopes,  fixed  itself  so  strongly  on  our  author's  mind, 
that  it  brought  on  him  a  sure,  though  not  a  very  sud- 
den declension  of  nature,  which  carried  him  off  the 
stage  of  life,  in  1707,  before  he  had  arrived  at  the 
30th  year  of  his  age.  His  comedies  are  so  diverting, 
and  the  characters  so  natural,  that  they  continue  even 
to  the  present  day,  to  be  represented  to  full  houses, 
both  in  Europe  and  America. 

FAUGERES,  (Margaretta  V.)  a  lady  of  dis- 
tinguished  literary  accomplishments,  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  John  L,  Bleecker,  Esq.  of  New-Rochelle,  of  the 
State  of  New-York,  and  the  celebrated  Ann  Eliza 
Bleecker,  of  whose  life  we  have  given  an  account  in 
the  preceding  part  of  this  work.  She  was  born  about 
the  year  177],  and  spent  the  first  years  of  her  life,  with 
her  parents  at  the  beautiful  little  village  of  Tomhanick, 
about  1 8  miles  above  Albany.  In  this  delightful  retire- 
ment, Mrs.  Bleecker,  who  was  a  fond  and  prudent 
mother,  devoted  a  great  part  of  her  time,  to  the  truly 
rational  amusement  of  instructing  her  daughters,  and, 
in  the  rapid  progress,  which  she  saw  them  making  in 
useful  learning,  was,  undoubtedly,  re-paid  with  more 
solid  satisfaction  than  those  mothers  can  possibly  ex- 
pect, who,  leaving  their  infant-offspring  to  the  gui- 


DIOCTIKARV»  §29 

dtince  of  others,  place  their  chief  happiness  in  com- 
pany and  in  the  gay  rounds  of  fashionable  amuse- 
ment. 

Upon  the  evacuation  of  New-York,  by  the  British, 
in  1783,  her  father  removed  with  his  family  to  the  city, 
where  he  soon  after  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  ami- 
able spouse.  To  Margaretta,  who  was  now  fast  ad- 
vancing to  that  period  of  life,  when  the  counsels  of 
a  prudent  mother  are  to^ajQung  lady,  of  the  utmost 
importance,  the  loss  was  irreparable.  She,  however, 
had  greatly  profited  by  the  instructions  of  this  amia- 
ble parent,  and  still  more  by  her  bright  example, 
which  she  carefully  set  before  her,  as  the  object  of 
;her  steadfast  imitation.  But  above  ail,  she  had  even 
'at  this  early  period,  imbibed  from  her,  those  senti- 
ments of  religion,  which,  amidst  the  numerous  ills  of 
life,  through  which  she  afterwards  struggled,  afforded 
her  not  only  consolation,  but  also  sufficient  fortitude 
to  perform  her  part  with  dignity. 

Her  father,  Mr.  Bleecker,  was  in  affluent  circum- 
stances and  highly  respected  as  a  gentleman  of  pro- 
bity and  understanding;  and  Margaretta,  who,  in  an 
eminent  degree,  possessed  every  mental  and  personal 
accomplishment,  enjoyed  that  share  in  his  paternal 
affection,  to  which  her  prudent  and  dutiful  behaviour 
so  well  entitled  her.  PoHte,  easy  and  engaging  in 
her  manners ;  happy  in  the  sweetness  and  equanimity 
of  her  temper  ;  lively,  engaging  and  witty  in  conver- 
sation i  and  uniformly  diffusing  amongst  all  around 
her,  that  cheerfulness  and  serenity  of  mind,  for  which 
she  herself  was  so  remarkably  distinguished,  it  is  by 
no  means  surprising,  that,  as  she  grew  up  to  matu- 
rity, she  had  many  admirers,  amongst  whom  there 
WTre,  no  doubt,  some,  whose  conduct  and  connec- 
tions in  life  would  have  jnstihed,  in  the  opinion  of 
her  father,  their  pretensions  to  the  hand  of  his  ac- 
complished daughter.  It  was  however  her  mifortune 
to  choose  for  herself,  and  from  that  moment  she  be- 
came the  daughter  of  adversitv.  She  had  placed  her 
Vol.  il.  No.  14,  T^2 


S^O  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL  j^ 

m 

affections  on  a  young  gentleman,  who  was  far  from 
meeting  with  the  approbation  ot  her  friends,  and  to 
him, notwithstanding  the  most  earnest  remonstrance  of 
her  father  (her  only  fault)  she  was  in  the  year  1792, 
united  in  the  bands  of  matrimony.  The  person  to 
whom  we  allude,  was  the  late  Mr.  Peter  Faugeres,  a 
physician  in  New- York,  who  was,  indeed,  possessed 
of  considerable  external  accomplishments,  had  a  gen- 
teel education  and  talents  by  no  means  despicablel 
But  he  had,  in  his  early  years,  inured  himself  to  ha< 
bits  of  dissipation,  in  which,  notwithstanding  his  un« 
ion  W'ith  this  invaluable  woman,  he  still  persevered^ 
by  which  means,  he,  in  a  short  time,  involved  her' 
as  well  as  himself,  in  extreme  penury  and  distress. 

As  v.'e  wish  not  to  wound  the  feelings  of  the  rela- 
tives of  this  imprudent  youth,  we  shall  touch  as  light- 
ly as  possible,  upon  his  demerits.  This  much  how* 
ever,  wq  cannot  omit.  In  the  course  of  a  very  fe^ 
years  the  ample  fortune,  which  he  received  with  his' 
wife,  was  totally  spent,  so  that  in  the  summer  of  1796; 
we  have  seen  her,  whose  birth,  talents,  and  nume-i 
rous  accomplishments  seemed  to  promise  her  the  en«i 
joyment  not  only  of  all  the  comforts,  but  even  luxu-J 
ries  of  life,  glad  to  procure  a  residence  in  a  small  gar^ 
ret  room',  where  with  the  author  of  her  woes  and  om 
child,  she  continued  for  several  weeks.  In  this  dij 
'  tressing  situation,  however,  she  still  maintained  the 
cheerfulness  of  her  disposition,  not  a  murmur  nor 
even  a  single  expression  of  discontent  escaping  from 
her  lips. 

Although  in  consequence  of  the  match  being  ex- 
tremely disagreeable  to  her  father,  she  had  become 
a  voluntary  exile  from  his  house,  yet  w^e  are  told, 
that  the  arm^  of  his  affectionate  solicitude  was  fre- 
quently exerted  to  shield  her  from  calamity,  and  to 
avert  the  piercing  blasts  of  adversity.  Misfortunes, 
ifcwever,  pressed  heavily  upon  her.  Evils  followed 
each  other  In  rapid  succession,  and,  as  if  som.ething 
was  yet  wanting  to  fill  up  the  cup  of  her  afiiictions, 


DICTIONARY.  531 

she,  in  1795,  lost  this  only  friend,  this  kind  and  af- 
fectionate  father.     From  that   period,  her  situation, 
bad  as  it  was,  became  stili  worse.     Poverty  stared 
her  constantly  in  the  face,  and  she,  who  seemed  born 
to  opulence,  and  whose  heart  was  benevolence  itself, 
has  frequently  been  reduced  to  considerable  difficul- 
ty, in  procuring  a  scanty  subsistence.      And  here  it 
may  be  asked,  had  she  no  friends,  no  relations,  who, 
by  th^ir  kind  interference,  could  have  mitigated  her 
sufferings,  and  at  least,  removed  far  from  her  door  the 
ills  of  pinching  poverty  ?     It  ought  to  be  recollected, 
however,  that,  amongst* the  various  misfortunes,  to 
which  those  ladies  are  liable,  whose  hard  fate  it  is,  to 
b^  joined  to  dissolute  and  extravagant  husbands,  this 
is  one  of  the  greatest,  viz.  that  they  are  supposed  to 
be  beyond  the  power  of  human  assistance,  and  there- 
fore, permitted  to  struggle  without  help,  through  a 
labyrinth  of  perplexity  and  woe.       In  such  cases, 
friends  generally  keep  at  a  distance,  and  have  an 
apology  in  readiness  for  their  supposed  indifference,  in 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  there  is,  at  least,  a  great 
deal  of  plausibility.  "  With  pleasure,"  say  they  "  would 
we  contribute  to  the  relief  of  this  worthy  and  unfor- 
tunate woman  and  her  helpless  infants ;   but  we  are 
persuaded,  that  what  we  sliould  bestow,  would  ne- 
ver be  appropriated  to  the  purpose  for  which  we  de- 
signed it.     Her  debauched  husband  would  squander 
away  in  dissipation,  what  we  meant  for  the  comfort 
of  his  suffering  family,  and  coming  hom.e  in  a  state 
of  intoxication,  of  which  we  should  even  be  guilty 
of  having  supplied  him  with  the  means,  he  would, 
by  the  violent  and  boisterous  sallies  of  his  temper, 
add   to  the   sufferings  of  his   already   too    unhappy 
spouse,  and  thus  greatly  aggravate  those  ills,  which 
we  wished  to  alleviate.       Y/e  would  willingly  assist 
her,  but,  alas !    it  is  not  in  our  power."      Thus  fared 
it  with  the  amiable,  but  ill  fated   Mrs.   Faugeres  5 
nnd  though  from  the  splendid  prcspects,  which  were 
:t  before  her  in  early  life,  her  case  might  |pe  consi- 


S32  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

dered  as  peculiarly  calamitous,  yet  it  is  much  to  be 
regretted,  that  there  are  many  other  highly  deserving 
and  accomplished  women,  who  from  a  similar  cause, 
are  placed  in  circumstances  but  little  different. 

From  the  unhappy  fate  of  this  accomplished  lady, 
a  few  reflections  naturally  present  themselves  to  outf 
mind,  which  we  beg  leave  to  press  with  great  earnest-" 
ness  to  the  consideration  of  our  unmarried  readers  of 
the  fair  sex.     The  choice  of  a  companion  for  lifp  is  an 
object  of  the  utmost  importance,  as  upon  that  cir- 
cumstance solely  depends  your  future  happiness  oi 
misery.     Love  is  blind,  and  you  may  too  often  fix 
your  affection  upon  an  object  by  no  means  worthy  of 
your  regard.      He  may  have  many  faults,  none  oi 
which  may  be  perceptible  to  you  :  but  to  others,  who 
are  not  under  the  influence  of  the  same  passion,  they 
may  be  apparent  as  noon-day.     You  have  no  doubt 
friends,  who,  you  are   persuaded,  have  your  interest 
at  heart,  and  whose  opinion  has  frequently  had  con* 
siderabie  weight  with  you,  in  affairs  oi  lesser  moment; 
Seriously  consult  with  them  on  this  point,  on  which 
more  than  any  other,  depends  your  future  peace,  tran- 
quility and  happiness,  and  before  you  decide  finally, 
weigh  well  in  your  own  minds,  whatever  objections 
they  may  start  against  your  favourite  views,  always 
remembering,  that  if  you  make  a  wrong  choice,  re- 
pentance will  be  unavailing,  when  instead  of  the  ca- 
resses and  endearments  of  a  loving  and  affectionate 
husband,  you  are  subjected  to  the  brutal  abuse  of  a 
sottish  and  unprincipled  debauchee,  who  will  spurn 
at  your  love  and  view  the  bitter  anguish    of  your 
heart  with  the  utmost  indifference,  and  when  from  the 
consciousness  of  having  acted  imprudently,  you  will 
.even  be  ashamed  to  complain.     For  our  part,  we  can 
think  of  no  possible  case  more  truly  deplorable  than 
that  of  an  amiable  woman  placed  in  such  a  situation  ; 
and  though  the  extent  of  human  foresight  be  so  lin> 
ited,  that  the  most  wary  and  circumspect  may  be 
^ome  times  disappointed  in  their  calculations  of  fu^ 


DICTIONARY.  333 

ture  happiness ;  yet  we  are  persuaded,  that  if,  in  the 
forming  of  matrimonial  connections,  young  ladies 
could  be  prevailed  on  to  listen  with  more  attention 
to  the  counsels  of  their  elder  and  more  experienced 
friends,  many  of  those  matches  would  be  avoided, 
which  entail  so  great  misery  on  the  most  lovely  part 
of  the  creation. 

We  shall  add  one  more  observation,  before  we 
close  our  remarks  upon  this  subject.  It  is  a  trite  say- 
ing, that  '"'  A  reformed  libertine,  will  make  the  best 
husband.'*  It  will  indeed  be  readily  granted,  that 
when  a  libertine  has  cpompletely  abandoned  his  vices, 
he  then  ceases  to  be  wicked;  his  conduct  will,  from 
henceforth,  be  marked  with  propriety,  and  a  deep 
regret  for  his  past  fpllies  will  render  him  exceeding- 
ly  careful  to  treat  every  one,  but  especially  his 
more  immediate  connections,  with  delicacy  and  res- 
pect. He,  in  that  case,  is  no  longer  a  libertine  and 
may  be  equally  deserving  of  lov-e  as  the  more  happy 
youth,  who  has  never  deviated  from  the  strict  rules  of 
morality.  A  serpent  may  be  taken  into  our  bosom 
without  injury;  but  it  must  first  be  deprived  of  its 
sting.  A  libertine  may,  in  like  manner,  be  transform- 
ed into  an  excellent  member  of  society;  but  before 
this  take  place,  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  relinquish 
his  follies.  If  a  libertine  be  really  disposed  to  make 
the  young  lady,  to  whom  he  pays  his  addresses,  happy 
through  lift:,  let  him  as  a  test  of  his  sincerity,  first  af- 
ford satisfactory  proofs  of  his  thorough  reformation,  and 
then  hope  for  the  approbation  of  the  fair.  Let  this 
reformation,  if  possible,  precede  matrimony  and  not 
follow  it ;  for  it  is  a  melancholy  truth,  v/hich  has,  no 
doubt,  been  observed  by  most  people,  that  it  requires 
a  fortitude  of  which  very  few  are  possessed  to  relin- 
quish habits  of  excess  and  dissipation,  when  they 
have  once  gained  strength,  by  frequent  repetition,  in 
early  life. 

V/e  trust,  v/e  shall  be  pardoned  for  this  digression, 
'into  which  v/e  have  been  led  almoiit  imperceptibly^ 


I 


C>34f  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

by  the  best  motives ;   and  now  return  to  the  subject 
of  the  present  memoir.      At  what  period  Mrs.  Fau- 
geres  first  favoured  the  public  with  any  of  her  poet- 
ical effusions,  we  do  not  exactly  know  ;  but  from  a 
number  of  her  original  letters  now  in  our  possession, 
she  appears  to  have  been  no   unsuccessful  votary  of 
the  muses  several  years  before  her  unhappy  marriage; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  sad  reverse  of  fortune,  which 
she  afterwards  experienced,  her  talents  became  known 
and  shone  with  resplendent  lustre.     For  the  last  7  or 
8  years  of  her  life,  many  of  her  productions  occasion- 
ally embellished  the   New- York  Ma£:azine  and  the 
Museum.     These  were  the  theme  of  universal  admi- 
ration, and  from  those  who  were  the  best  judges  of 
literary  merit,  attracted   unbounded   applause.      In 
1795  or  1796,  she  published  the  tragedy  of  "Belisa- 
rlus."      This  dramatic  effort  was  perused  with  much 
satisfaction,  by  the  admirers  of  that  species  of  writing, 
and  as  it  pourtrayed,  in  the  most  Hvely  colours,  the 
strange   vicissitudes  of  fortune,  v/hich  history  has  in- 
formed us,  the  hero  of  the  piece  experienced,  it  could 
not  fail  of  being  extremely  interesting.      It  would 
have  been  exhibited  on  the  stage,  but,  as  it  was  first 
shewn  to  the  m.anagers  at  an  advanced  period  of  the 
theatrical  campaign,  it  was  impossible  to  get  the  ne- 
cessary scenery  ready.  In  due  time,  for  its  representa- 
tion that  season  ;  and  as  various  unexpected  circum- 
stances occurred  afterwards,  it  is  probable   that  a  se- 
cond application  was  never  made  for  that  purpose.  It 
was,  however,  the  opinion  of  those  who  are  well  skill- 
ed in  these  matters,  that  the  tragedy  vt'ould  have  been 
received  with  unbounded  applause,  and  this  circum.- 
stance  was  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  vigour  and  ex- 
tent of  her  genius,  as  it  was  well  known  to  her  friends 
that  she  had  never  been  in  the  inside  of  a  theatre. 

In  the  fatal  autumn  of  1798,  her  husband  was  one 
of  the  many  hundreds,  who  fell  victims  to  the  rava- 
ges of  devouring  pestilence.  Soon  after  his  death, 
his  father  took  their  two  infant  children  under  his 


DICTIONARY.  355 

own  care,  and  Mrs.  Faugeres,  vvho  wished  to  employ 
her  talents  in  such  a  manner  as  might  be  most  bene- 
ficial to  the  public,  engaged  as  an  assistant  in  a  young 
lady's  academy  in  New-Brunswick.  From  the  va- 
riety and  extent  of  her  talents,  as  well  as  the  remark- 
able sweetness  of  her  temper,  it  was  impossible  that 
any  person  could  have  been  found  better  qualified  for 
such  an  undertaking.  The  young  ladies,  as  might  na- 
turally be  expected,  were  remarkably  fond  of  their 
accomplished  tutoress,  and  their  progress  in  good  mo- 
rals and  elegant  literature  exceeded  the  most  sanguine 
expectations  of  their  friends,  to  all  of  whom  the  me- 
mory of  Mrs.  Faugeres  will  be  ever  dear.  After 
continuing  in  that  place  for  upwards  of  a  year,  where 
she  possesed,  in  a  high  degree,  the  esteem  and  appro- 
bation of  the  most  respectable  part  of  the  communi- 
ty, she  was  induced  to  undertake  the  education  of 
some  gentlemen's  children  in  Brooklyn,  in  order  that 
she  might  be  more  near  to  her  friends  in  New- York. 
She  was  soon,  however,  obliged  to  resign  her  delight- 
ful task.  Her  constitution  was  under  a  rapid  decline 
and  her  strength  would  enable  her  to  proceed  no  far- 
ther. In  this  enfeebled  condition,  she  was  received 
with  open  arms  by  a  friend  in  New- York,  who  used 
€very  exertion  in  her  power  to  promote  her  recovery; 
but  to  rro  purpose.  Her  disease  was  rapid  in  its  pro- 
gress, and  her  hopes  of  relief  v/ere  placed  beyond 
the  grave.  She  on  this,  as  well  as  on  every  other  oc- 
casion, manifested  an  entire  resignation  to  the  Divine 
•will,  and  supported  herself  with  becoming  calmness 
and  fortitude.  With  serenity  she  hailed  the  closing 
scene,  and,  animated  by  the  consoling  truths  of  reli- 
gion, composedly  yielded  her  spirit  into  the  arms  ofc 
its  omniscient  creator,  January  9th,  1801,  aged  29 
years. 

Besides  those  of  her  productions,  which  we  have 
already  mentioned,  Mrs.  Faugeres  left  a  vast  number 
of  MSS.  which  were  never  published.  A  large  pro- 
portion of  the  most  valuable  of  these  are  in  our  hands 


530  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

and  it  shall  be  our  care  to  collect  the  remainder  as 
speedily  as  possible,  and  to  arrange  them  for  the  press  -^^ 
being  fuliy  persuaded   that  we  can   present  no  ofFer-f 
ing  more  acceptable  to  the  lovers  of  genius  than  the* 
complete  works  oi   this  justly  celebrated  AmericarxJ 
poetess. 

FAUSTUS  OR  FUST,  (John)  a  citizen  of  Ment^^ 
in  Germany,  and  one  of  the  first  inventors  of  printing. 
This  art  is  said  to  have  been  first  attempted,  between 
the  years  1440  and  1450,  by  John  Faustus,  John 
Meydenbuch,  and  John  Genesteisch  surnamed  Gut- 
temberg  ;  but  it  was  a  controverted  t]uestion,  among 
learned  antiquarians,  to  which  of  these  three,  the  ho- 
nour qf  this  noble  invention  should  be  attributed  ;  till 
happily  the  original  written  instrument  was  found, 
by  which  it  appears  that  the  latter  only  associated  the 
others  with  him,  on  account  of  their  purses,  his  owri^ 
being  insufficient  to  defrav  the  great  expence  attend- 
ing the  cutting  of  wooden  blocks,  which,  after  they 
were  once  printed  from,  became  entirely  useless  for 
any  other  work.  This  instrument,  which  is  dated 
'i  November  6th  1445,  is  decisive  in  favour  of  John  of 
yi  Guttemberg  ;  but  the  honour  of  single  types  made  of 
^'metal,  is  ascribed  to  Faustus,  wherein  he  received 
great  assistance  from  his  son-in-law,  Peter.  Schoeffer, 
i  who  devised  the  puncheons,  mattrices  and  rnoulds  fqr 
casting  them,  on  which  account  he  was  taken  inta, 
partnership  w^ith  his  father-in-law,  who  in  1455,  had  j 
a  quarrel  and  separated  from  Guttemberg. 

The  first  printed  book  upon  record,  is  "the  Book  or 

Psalms,"  but  what  most  signalized  Faustus  and  his  art  | 

iwas   the  first  printed  bibles,  which    having  finished 

Jin  1462,  he  carried  a  considerable  number  of  copies 

«o  Paris  for  sale.     He  at  first  sold  his  copies,  as  high 

as  500  or  600  crowns,  the  price  usually  demanded  by 

the  scribes.       He  afterwards  lowered  his  price  to  60 

>»crovvns,  which    created  universal   astonisment ;  but 


■M. 


^iCTtONARY.  357 

when  he  produced  copies,  as  fast  as  they  were  want- 
ed, and  lowered  his  demand  to  30  crowns,  all  Paris 
was  in  agitation.  The  uniformity  of  every  letter  in  so 
many  copies  increased  the  wonder ;  informations 
were  lodged  against  him  to  the  police  as  a  magician  $ 
his  lodgings  were  accordingly  searched,  and  a  great 
number  of  copies  seized;  the  red  ink,  with  which  they 
were  embellished,  was  said  to  be  his  blood;  it  was 
seriously  adjudged,  that  he  was  in  league  with  the 
devil,  and  if  he  had  not  explained  the  principles  of 
his  art,  he  would  most  probably  have  shared  the  fate 
of  those,  whom  ignorant  and  superstitious  judges,  in 
those  days,  condemned  for  witch-crafr.  To  this  cir- 
cumstance, we  are  indebted  for  the  tradition  of"  the 
devil  and  Dr.  Faustus,"  which  has  even  been  handed 
down  to  the  present  day.  In  1466,  he  printed  a 
quarto  edition  of  Tully's  offices,  and,  in  the  year  fol- 
lowing, another  edition  of  the  same  work,  and  this  is 
the  last  account  of  the  life  of  Faustus. 

FELTON,  (John)  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  British 
ftavy,  and  an  assassin,  who  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I. 
stabbed  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  for  which  crime 
he  suffered  death.  Though  Buckingham  was  a 
worthless  character,  this  article  is  not  inserted  to  de- 
fend unwarrantable  actions ;  but  to  record  a  memora- 
ble reply,  which  the  murderer  made  to  archbishop 
Laud,  on  his  examination  before  the  council.  "  If 
you  will  not  confess,"  said  the  prelate,  "  you  shall  be 
put  to  the  rack."  "  If  that  is  to  be  the  case,"  replied 
Felton,  "  I  know  not  whom  in  my  agonies  I  may  ac- 
cuse. God  forbid  I  should  die  with  a  falsehood  in 
my  mouth  ;  but,  on  such  an  occasion,  I  might  as  just- 
ly and  as  probably,  for  the  sake  of  shortening  my  pu- 
nishment, accuse  a  ford  at  this  board,  of  being  my  ac- 
complice, as  any  other  person." 

This  is  a  short,  but  unanswerable  argument  against 
telying  upon  evidence  procured  by  the   force  of  tor- 

Vol.  JI.  No,  14.  U2 


SS8  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

ture.    For  such  is  human  nature,  so  weak  the  nerves  of 
some,  so  versatile  the  principles  of  others,  that  there  is 
scarce  a  proposition,  however  contradictory  to  fact  and; 
reason,  w  hich  might  not  in  this  manner,  be  confirmed. 
Suffering  death  proves  the  sincerity  of  the  person,  but 
not  the  truth  of  the  fact  or  doctrine  for  which  he  dies.j 
Felton's  answer  has  been  quoted  by  an  eminent  judge 'I 
against  compulsive  testimony  ;  indeed,  it  may  teach 
us  to  regard  what  are  called  king's  (State)  evidence! 
with  suspicion,  that  they  come  to  court  for  the  expresr! 
purpose  of  removing  a  halter  from  their  own  necks  to 
place  on  it  that  of  another  man.     The  words  of  Felton 
might  be  an  artful  attempt  to  avert  a  horrid  punish- 
ment,  at  which  nature  recoils,  by  alarming  the  per- 
sons who  examined  him,  for  theij  own  safety. 


FENELON,  (Francis  De  Salignac  De  La 
Motte)  archbishop  of  Cambray,  and  author  ofTe- 
Jemachus,  was  of  an  ancient  and  illustrious  family, 
and  born  in  the  ci-devant  province  of  Perigord,  Au- 
gust 6th  1651.  At  the  age  of  twenty-four,  he  enter- 
ed into  holy  orders,  and  three  years  after,  was  chosen 
by  the  archbishop  of  Paris,  to  be  superior  to  the  new 
convert  w^omen  in  that  city.  In  1686,  which  was 
the  year  after  the  edict  of  Nantz  was  revoked,  the 
king  named  him  to  be  at  the  head  of  those  mission-' 
aries,  who  were  sent  along  the  coast  of  Saintoigne 
and  the  Pais  de  Aunix,  to  convert  the  protestants. 

Having  finished  his  mission,  he  returned  to  Pari^, 
where  he  lived  two  years,  entirely  taken  up  in  irn 
structing  the  new  female  converts  ;  and  that  he  might 
forward  this  good  work  by  writing,  as  well  as  lec- 
tures, he  published  in  1688,  a  little  treatise,  entitled 
"  Education  de  Filles,'*  which  the  author  of  the 
"  Bibliotheque  Universelle,'*  calls  the  best  and  most 
useful  book,  written  upon  the  subject,  in  the  French- 
language.  In  1688,  he  published  a  work  "  Concern- 
ing the  Functions  of  the  Pastors  of  the  Church,"  writtea 


DICTIONARY.  '     339 

chiefly  with  a  view  to  shew,  that  the  first  promoters 
of  the  reformation,  had  no  regular  call,  and,  therefore, 
were  not  true  pastors.  In  1689,  he  was  made  tutor 
to  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Anjou,  and  in  1693, 
chosen  member  of  the  French  academy.  All  the 
time  he  lived  at  court,  he  preserved  the  disinterest- 
edness of  a  hermit,  and  never  asked  any  favour  either 
for  himself  or  his  friends.  At  last,  however,  without 
solicitation  on  his  part,  the  king  gave  him  the 
abbey  of  St.  Vallery,  and  some  months  after,  the  arch- 
bishopric of  Cambray,  to  which  he  was  consecrated 
in   1695. 

But  soon  after  this  preferment,  a  storm  rose  against 
him,  which  obliged  him  to  leave  the  court  forever.  It 
was  occasioned  by  his  book  entitled,'*  An  explication 
of  the  maxims  of  the  saints  concerning  the  interior 
life."  This  book  was  published  in  1697,  occasioned 
by  a  certain  lady,  named  madame  Guyon,  wlio  pre- 
tended to  a  very  high  and  exalted  devotion.  She 
explained  it  in  some  books,  which  she  published,  and 
in  particular,  in  a  mystical  exposition  ot  Solomon's 
Song.  In  short,  she  was  a  downright  quietist,  and 
Fenelon  was  supposed  to  favour  her  extravagant  no- 
tions. A  controversy,  on  this  occasion,  was,  for  some 
time  carried  on  between  him  and  M.  Bossuet,  bishop 
of  Meaux,  which  terminated  in  an  appeal  to  the  Pope, 
who  condemned  the  archbishop's  book,  bv  a  brief 
dated  March  12th  1699.  He' submitted  patiently 
to  the  Po[)e's  determination,  and,  retiring  to  his  dio- 
cese of  Cambray,  acquitted  himself  punctually  in  all 
the  duties  of  his  station,  and  led  a  most  exemplary 
]ife. 

But  the  work,  which  has  gained  him  the  greatest 
reputation  and  rendered  his  name  immortal  is  his 
"  Adventures  of  Telemachus  ;"  the  style  of  which  is 
natural;  the  fictions  well  contrived  ;  the  moral  sub- 
lime, and  the  political  maxims  tending  all  to  the  hap» 
piness  of  mankind.  It  was  begun  to  be  printed  at 
Paris,  but  there  werehardJy  two  hundred. pages  struck 


840  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

off,  when  the  impression  was  stopped  by  the  king's 
command.  Hence  it  is  thought,  that  Fenelon*s  here- 
sy was  in  politics  rather  than  in  rehgion  ;  and,  though 
his  disgrace  was  prior  to  this  work,  he  had,  while  he 
was  tutor  to  the  young  princes,  taught  them  the  same 
principles,  which  he  has  so  beautifully  asserted  and 
exemplified  in  Telemachus. 

In  1713,  he  published  another  considerable  work, 
entitled  "  A  Demonstration  of  the  being  of  God 
grounded  on  the  Knowledge  of  Nature,"  which  is  ac«ji 
icnowledgcd  to  be  one  of  the  best  books  in  the  FrendJI 
,, language.  His  "  Dialogues  sur  I'Eloquence,"  though 
composed  in  his  youth,  were  not  published,  till  after 
his  death  in  1718.  They  contain  many  fine  observa- 
tions, expressed  in  an  easy  style.  He  died  in  January 
1715,  aged  63,  and  a  collection  of  all  his  religious 
works  was  afterwards  printed  at  Rotterdam,  under  the 
care  of  the  Marquis  de  Fenelon,  his  grand  nephew, 
when  ambassador  to  the  states  general. 


Ferguson,  (James)  an  extraordinary  phaenome 
lion  of  the  self  taught  kind,  particularly  in  mechauics 
and  astronomy,  was  born,  near  Keith,  a  little  village 
in  Bamffshire,  Scotland,  in  the  year  1710.  His  parents, 
though  poor,  were  honest  and  religious,  lived  in  repute 
with  all  who  knew  them,  and  died  with  good  char- 
acters. 

As  his  father  had  nothing  to  support  a  large  family 
but  his  daily  labour,  and  the  slender  profits  arising 
from  a  few  acres  of  land,  which  he  rented,  it  was 
not  to  be  expected,  that  he  could  bestow  much  on 
the  education  of  his  children ;  yet  they  were  not 
neglected;  for  at  his  leisure  hours,  he  taught  them  to 
read  and  write.  Our  author,  who,  from  his  earliest 
years,  discovered  an  extraordinary  genius,  first  learnt  to 
read,  by  over-hearing  his  father  teach  his  elder  brother, 
and  he  had  made  this  acquisition,  before  any  one 
suspected  it.     His  father  being  most  agreeably  sur- 


DICTIONARY.  341 

prised  to  find  him  reading  by  himself,  gave  him  further 
instruction,  and  also  taught  him  to  write,  which,  with 
about  three  months,  he  afterwards  spent  at  the  grarft- 
mar  school  of  Keith,  was  all  the  educationfhe'evfer 
received.  i!ri.>rvi 

His  taste  for  mechanics  first  arose,  from  seeing  his 
father  use  a  lever,  at  a  time  when  he  himself  was  only 
between  seven  and  eight  years  ot  age.  This  led 
him  to  a  train  of  thinking,  with  respect  to  the  use  ot 
the  lever  and  other  mechanical  powers,  and  he  was  far 
more  successful  in  the  investigation  of  those  matters, 
than  could  have  been  possibly  expected,  either  from 
his  age  or  opportunities.  As  he  had  no  instructor,  nor 
any  help  from  books,  every  thing  he  learned,  had  all 
the  merit  of  an  original  discovery  ;  and  such,  with 
infinite  joy,  he  at  first  believed  it  to  be.  When, 
however,  he  was  afterwards  undeceived  in  this  respett, 
he  had  the  satisfaction  to  find,  that  the  result  of  his 
own  investigations,  so  far  as  he  had  carried  them, 
agreed  with  the  principles  of  mechanics  as  laid  dov/n 
by  the  best  writers  ;  and,  from  that  time,  his  inclina- 
tion was  still  more  excited  to  improve  in  that  science. 

But,  as  his  father  could  not  afford  to  maintain  him, 
while  he  was  in  pursuit  only  of  these  matters,  and  he 
was  rather  too  young  and  weak  for  hard  labour,  he 
was  sent  out  to  a  neighbour  to  keep  sheep,  in  which 
employment,  he  continued  for  some  years,  and  during 
that  time  first  began  to  study  the  stars  in  the  night. 
In  the  day  time,  he  amused  himself  by  making  models 
of  mills,  spinning  wheels  and  such  other  pieces  of 
machinery  as  he  happened  to  see. 

As  soon  as  his  age  would  permit,  he  went  to  work 
as  a  labourer,  v/ith  a  farmer  in  the  neighbourhood, 
named  Glasham,  whose  goodness  he  acknowledges  in 
the  modest  and  humble  account  of  himself,  which  he 
prefixed  to  his  last  publication.  In  the  evenings,  after 
his  day's  work  \vas  over,  he  used  to  go  out  to  the 
fields,  with  a  blanket  about  him,  in  order  to  contem- 
plate the  stars,  and  even  at  that  time,  he  without  any 


342  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

guide,  made  considerable  progress,  in  the  study  of 
astronomy.  His  kind  master,  observing  these  marks 
of  his  ingenuity,  procured  him  the  countenance  and 
assistance  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gilchrist  minister  of 
Keith.  By  the  reccommendation  of  this  gentleman, 
he  was,  with  a  view  to  his  instruction,  received  into  the 
family  of  Thomas  Grant  Esq.  whose  butler  Alex- 
ander Cantley,  (a  very  extraordinary  person  as  describ- 
ed by  Ferguson)  became  his  tutor,  "He  was,"  says 
he,"  after  describing  Cantley's  numerous  accomplish 
ments  *'  what  is  generally  called  self  taught ;  but  J 
think,  he  might  w^ith  much  greater  propriety  have 
been  termed  God  TllmigJitij's  scholar." 

This  person  immediately  began  to  teach  him  deci- 
mal arithmetic  and  algebra,  (for  he  had  already  learnt 
vulgar  arithmetic  from  books,)  and  after  he  had  miade 
sufficient  progress  in  these,  he  proceeded  to  teach 
him  the  elements  of  Geometry.  To  the  inexpressi- 
ble grief  of  Mr.  Ferguson,  however,  Mr.  Cantley  left 
Mr.  Grant,  just  as  he  was  entering  on  that  branch  of 
science,  nor  could  the  good  family  prevail  upon  him 
to  continue  there  any  longer,  after  the  departure  of  his  i 
friend.     He  therefore,  retired  to  his  father's. 

Mr.  Cantley  had  made  him  a  present  of  Gordon's 
Geographical  grammar,  which  he,  at  that  time,  highly; 
valued,  as  it  contained  a  tolerable  description  of  the: 
globes,  and  their  uses,  though  it  had  no  plates.    From 
this  description,  he,  in  about  three  weeks,  constructed 
a  globe  out  of  a  piece  of  wood,  on  which,  after  he  had 
covered  it  with  paper,  he  delineated  a  map  of  the 
world  ;  he  also  made  the  meridian  ring  and  horizon 
of  the   same  materials,  and,  after  he  had  graduated 
them,  had  the  happiness  to  find,  that  by  this  globe^' 
which  was  the  first  he  had  ever  seen,  he  was  able 
to  solve  the  problems. 

But,  as  he  was  not  likely  to  derive  a  subsistance 
from  this  mode  of  employing  his  time,  and  knew  his 
father  to  be  incapable  of  supporting  him,  he  was  un- 
der the  necessity  of  again  seeking  employment  as  a 


DICTIONARY.  S4S 

labourer.  He  engaged  for  one  year  with  a  miller,  m 
hopes  that  the  business  would  be  easy,  and  that  he 
would  likewise  have  a  good  deal  of  leisure  for  study. 
In  both  these  respects,  however,  he  was  cruelly  dis- 
appointed; for  his  master  being  too  fond  of  the  tavern, 
left  the  whole  care  of  the  mill  to  him,  and  almost 
starved  him  for  want  of  victuals.  His  next  engage- 
ment, was  with  a  country  physician,  who  allured  him 
into  his  ser\'ice,  by  a  promise  of  instructing  him  in  hfs 
own  profession.  He  was,  however,  so  far  from  ful- 
filling his  promise,  that  he  kept  him  constantly  at  very 
hard  labour,  and  never  once  shewed  him  one  of  his 
books.  After  he  had  continued,  for  three  months,  in 
this  employment,  he  found  himself  so  worn  out  by 
excessive  fatigue,  that  he  was  obliged  to  relinquish  ?t 
and  betake  himself  to  his  father's,  where  he  conti- 
nued for  many  weeks,  in  a  very  debilitated  state. 

In  order  to  amuse  himself,  whilst  in  this  low  con* 
dition,  he  made  a  wooden  clock,  which  kept  time 
very  well.  The  bell,  on  which  the  hammer  struck 
the  hours,  was  the  neck  of  a  broken  bottle.  As 
soon  as  he  had  acquired  sufficient  strength  to  go 
abroad,  he  carried  his  clock,  globe,  and  some  maps, 
which  he  had  drawn,  to  Sir  James  Dunbar,  of 
Durn,  who  had  been  represented  to  him  as  a  gentle- 
man of  an  inquisitive  turn,  and  very  benevolent  dispo- 
sition. Sir  James  received  him  with  great  kindness, 
and  employed  him  to  clean  his  clocks,  which,  though 
he  had  never  attempted  any  thing  of  the  kind  before, 
he  performed  to  his  entire  satisfaction.  He  after- 
wards picked  up  some  money  about  the  country,  by 
pursuing  the  same  occupation,  in  the  mean  time, 
making  that  gentleman's  house  his  home. 

During  his  residence  at  this  hospitable  mansion, 
the  sister  of  Sir  James  observing  his  ingenuity,  asked 
him  to  draw  some  patterns  for  needle-work,  on  aprons 
and  gowns.  In  this  he  succeeded  extremely  well, 
and  being  frequently  employed  in  the  same  manner, 
by  other  ladies  in  the  country,  he  began  to  consider 


344  KEW  BIOGRAPHtCAt 


himself  as  growing  rich  by  the  money  he  got  for  sue 
drawings,  out  of  which,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  occa^  \\ 
sionally  supplying  the  wants  of  his  poor  father.     All 
this  while,  however,  he  still  continued  his  practice  of 
star-gazing  in  the  nights,  and  taking  the  places  of  the 
planets  amongst  the  stars.  'M 

Sir  James's  house  was  full  of  prints  and  pictures^^ 


1.4 


^ 


several  of  which  Mr.  Ferguson  had  copied  with  pen 
and  ink.     Being  observed  in  this  employment  by  a  re 
lation   of  Sir  James,  that   gentleman   immediatelj 
conceived  the  idea,  that  he  might  become  a  painter^ 
and  not  only  furnished  him  with  pencils  and  Indian 
ink,  but  also  shewed  him  how  to  draw  wnth  them.i 
He  was  also  the  first,  who  sat  to  him  for  a  picture^* 
and  Mr.  Ferguson  informs  us,  that  he  found  it  much 
more  easy  to  draw  from  the  life,  than  from  any  pic- 
ture whatever,  as  nature  was  more  striking  than  any 
imitation  of  it. 

By  the  help  of  Sir  James  and  his  friends,  he  wen 
on  making  a  rapid  progress  in  knowledge,  and  waa 
soon  after  sent  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  resided  two* 
years  in  the  house  of  Sir  James's  sister.     There  he 
employed  himself  in  painting  portraits,  and  by  that 
means  supported  himself  and  family  for  several  years/| 
whilst  he  was  pursuing  more  serious  studies. 

In  1739,  he  married,  and  in  the  year  following,  inJ 
vented  his  Astronomical  Rotula^  a  machine  for  shew-^ 
ing  the  new  moons  and  eclipses,  which  acquired  hint 
the  friendship  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  MXaurin^   pro--^ 
fessor  of  mathematics  at  Edinburgh.   About  the  year 
1744,  he  went  to  London,  and  soon  made  his  wa/; 
amongst  such  of  the  great,  as  were  lovers  of  science; 
and  uncommon  merit.     In  that  city,  he  first  publishedP 
some  curious  astronomical  tables  and  calculations  ;f 
and  afterwards  gave  public  lectures  in  experimental' 
philosophy,  which   he  repeated   by   subscription,  irt 
most  of  the  principal  towns  in  England,  with  the 
highest  marks  of  general  approbation.     A  delineatiort  I 
ot  the  complex  line  of  the  Moon's  motion  recona- 


DIGTIONARY.  S45 

mended  him  to  the  Royal  Society,  of  which  he  was 
elected  feilow,  without  paying  for  admission,  an  ho- 
nour scarcely  ever  conferred  on  a  native;  and  had  a 
small  pension  given  him  unsolicited,  by  the  present 
king,  at  his  accession,  who  had  heard  his  lectures,  and 
frequently  sent  for  and  conversed  with  him,  on  curi- 
ous topics.  He  also  received  several  pres^pts  iVpni 
his  majesty.  :,■*-%   ;n    rTT«^T*. 

To  what  a  degree  of  consideration,  Mr.  Ferguson^ 
mountedv-by  the  strength  of  his  natural  genius  alone^ 
almost  every  one  knows.  He  was  universally  con- 
sidered as  at  the  head  of  astronomy  and  mechanics,  in 
the  British  nation  ;  and  he  might  justly  be  styled  self- 
taught,  or  rather,  as  he  expressed  himself  with  respect 
to  his  friend  Cantley,  "  heaven  taught,"  for,  in  his 
whole  life,  he  had  not  above  three  months  instruction 
at  school.  He  was  a  man  of  the  clearest  judgment 
and  the  most  unwearied  application  to  study  ;  bene- 
volent, meek,  and  innocent  in  his  manners  as  a  child  ; 
humble,  courteous,  and  communicative  ;  instead  of 
pedantry,  philosophy  seemed  to  produce  in  him  oaly 
diffidence  and  urbanity — a  love  for  mankind  and  for 
his  Maker.  His  whole  life  was  an  example  of  resig- 
nation and  Christian  piety.  '  He  might  be  said  to  be 
an  enthusiast,  in  his  love  of  God,  if  religion,  founded 
on  such  substantial  and  enlightened  grounds  as  his^ 
could  be  styled  enthusiasm.    He  died  Nov.  1 6th  1776. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  his  works :  1 .  "  Astronomy 
explained  upon  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Principles,  and 
made  easy  to  those,  who  have  not  studied  Mathema- 
tics." 2.  "  An  easy  Introduction  to  Astronomy."  3. 
"Tables  and  Tracts  relative  to  several  Arts  and  Scien- 
ces." 4.  "  An  Introduction  to  Electricity."  5.  "Lec- 
tures on  Select  Subjects  in  Mechanics,  Hydrostatics, 
Pneumatics  and  Optics,  with  the  use  of  the  Globes, 
Sic.  6.  The  Art  of  Drawing  in  Perspective."  7.  "Select 
Mechanical  Exercises."  to  which  is  prefixed  a  short 
account  of  the  Author's  life,  written  by  himself 

Vol.  II.  No.  14,  X 


346  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

FIELDING,  (Henry)  a  celebrated  English  writer, 
son  of  Lieutenant  General  Fielding,  was  born,  in  So- 
mersetshire, April  22d  1707.  He  had  four  sisters,  of 
whom  Sarah  is  well  known  as  writer  of  "  The  Adven- 
tures of  David  Simple."  On  the  death  of  his  mother, 
his  father  married  again,  by  which  second  marriage, 
Henry  had  six  half-brothers.  One  of  these  John^ 
succeeded  our  Henry  in  the  commission  of  the  peac« 
for  the  county  of  Middlesex,  was  knighted  as  bein|_ 
a  very  useful  person  in  his  situation,  and  died  in  1781 

Henry,  after  being  instructed  in  the  first  principle} 
of  literature  at  home,  was  sent  to  finish  his  education 
at  Leyden  ;  but  a  failure  in  his  remittances  obligee 
him    to    return  in   two  years,   when   his  propensitj 
to  gaiety  and  profusion  drove  him  to  commence  wril 
er  for  the  stage,  in    1727,  at  which  time,  he  ha< 
scarcely   completed  the  twentieth  year  of  his  age] 
His  first  attempt  in  the  drama  was  a  piece  calle( 
''  Love  in  several  Masques,"  which  met  with  a  verj 
favourable  reception,  as  did  likewise  his  second  play,i 
which  came  out  in  the  following  year  and  was  entitled 
**The  Temple  Beau."      All  his  plays,  and  farces,  to 
the  amount  of  eighteen  were  written  before  the  year 
1737,  and  were,  in  general,  received  with  great  apl 
plause.     He  did  not,  however,  meet  with  equal  suo^ 
cess  in  all  his  dramatic  works,  for  he  has  even  printed^, 
in  the  title-page  of  one  of  his  Farces,  "  as  it  was  dam 
edy  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane." 

While  he  was  thus  employed,  he  married  a  youn 
lady  with  a  fortune  of  nearly  7000  dollars,  and,  hii 
mother  dying,  about  the  same  time,  an  estate  in  Dor- 
setshire of  about  900  dollars  per  annum,  came  into  his 
possession.  With  this  fortune,  which,  had  it  been 
conducted  with  prudence  and  economy,  might  have 
secured  to  him  a  state  of  independence  for  life,  and 
with  the  helps  it  might  have  derived  from  the  pro- 
ductions of  a  genius  unincumbered  with  anxieties  and! 
perplexity,  might  have  even  afforded  him  an  afflucDlj 
incooie  j  with  this  fortune  ai^d  a  wife,  whom  he  wasj 


DICTIONARY.  347 

fond  of  to  distraction,  and  for  whose  sake  he  had  ta- 
ken up  a  resolution  of  bidding  adieu  to  all  the  follies 
and  intemperances,  to  which  he  had  addicted  himself 
in  that  short  but  very  rapid  career  of  a  town  life, 
which  he  had  run,  he  determined  to  retire  to  his 
country  seat,  and  there  reside  entirely. 

But  here,  in  spite  of  this  prudent  resolution,  one  fol- 
ly only  took  place  of  another,  and  family  pride  now 
brought  on  him  all  the  inconveniences  in  one  place, 
which  youthful  dissipation  and  libertinism  had  done 
in  another.  The  income  he  possessed,  though  suf- 
ficient for  ease,  and  even  some  degree  of  elegance, 
yet  was  in  no  degree  adequate  to  the  support  of 
either  luxury  or  splendour.  He  incumbered  himself 
with  a  large  retinue  of  servants  ;  and  his  natural 
turn  leading  him  to  a  fondness  for  the  delights  of  so- 
ciety and  convivial  mirth,  he  threw  wide  open  the 
gates  of  hospitality,  and  suffered  his  whole  patrimo- 
ny to  be  devoured  up  by  hounds,  horses,  and  enter- 
tainments. In  short,  in  less  than  three  years,  from 
the  mere  passion  of  being  esteemed  a  man  of  great 
fortune,  he  reduced  himself  to  the  unpleasant  situa- 
tion of  having  no  fortune  at  all;  and,  through  an  am- 
bition of  maiotaining  an  open  house  for  the  reception 
of  every  one  else,  he  soon  found  himself  without  a  ha- 
bitation, which  he  could  rail  his  own.  Not  discou- 
raged, however,  he  determined  to  exert  his  best  abi- 
lities, betook  himself  closely  to  the  study  of  law,  and, 
after  the  customary  time  of  probation,  at  the  Temple, 
was  called  to  the  bar,  and  made  no  inconsiderable 
figure  in  Westminster  Hall. 

To  the  practice  of  the  Law,  Mr.  Fielding  now  ap- 
plied himself  with  great  assiduity,  so  long  as  his  health 
permitted  him  ^  and  it  is  probable,  he  would  have 
risen  to  a  considerable  degree  of  eminence  in  it,  had 
not  the  intemperances  of  the  early  parts  of  his  life 
put  a  check,  by  their  consequences,  to  the  progress 
of  his  success.  Though  but  a  young  man,  he  began 
now  to  be  molested  with  such  violent  attacks  from 


$48  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

the  gout,  as  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  be  so 
coiistant  at  the  bar,  as  the  laboriousness  of  his  pro- 
fession required  ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  many  occasional  applications  of  his  pen,  for  im« 
mediate  support.  With  this  view,  he  published  a 
large  number  of  fugitive,  political  tracts,  of  which, 
as  they  had  only  a  reference  to  the  incidents  then  ac-. 
tually  passing  on  the  great  political  scene,  it  would  ht 
of  no  use,  for  us  to  transmit  the  names.  "An  Epis« 
tie  to  the  Right  Honorable  Sir  Robert  AValpole'* 
"written  in  1750,  shews  at  once  our  author*s  acquaint-^ 
ance  with  distress,  and  the  firmness  of  mind,  with 
"which  he  supported  it.  Such  other  works  as  were 
produced  before  his  genius  was  come  to  its  full  growth," 
were  "An  Essay  on  Conversation.'*  "An  Essay  on 
the  Knowledge  and  Characters  of  Men,'*  "  A  Journey 
from  this  World  to  the  next."  "  The  History  of  Jona* 
than  Vv^yld  the  Great,  &;c."  But  his  genius  was  seen  in 
full  and  vigorous  exertion ;  first  in  "  Joseph  Andrews,"^ 
and  most  completely  in  his  "Tom  Jones,**  which  are 
too  well  known,  and  too  justly  admired,  to  leave  us 
any  room  for  expatiating  on  their  merits. ' 

Soon  after  the  publication  of  "Joseph  Andrews," 
his  last  comedy  was  exhibited  on  the  stage,  entitled 
*'  The  Wedding  Day,"  which  was  attended,  but  with 
an  indifferent  share  of  sucress.  He  engaged  in  two 
periodical  papers  successively,  with  the  laudable  and 
spirited  design  of  rendering  service  to  his  country. 
The  first  of  these  was  called  "  The  True  Patriot," 
which  was  set  on  foot,  during  the  rebellion  of  1745^ 
Precarious,  however,  as  this  means  of  subsistence  un- 
avoidably must  be,  it  was  scarcely  possible,  he  should 
be  enabled  by  it  to  repair  his  shattered  fortune.  He, 
therelcie,  at  last  accepted  of  the  office  of  an  acting 
magistrate  in  the  commission  of  the  peace  for  the 
county  of  Middlesex,  in  which  station  he  continued, 
till  near  the  time  of  his  death  ;  an  office,  however, 
which  seldom  fails  of  being  hateful  to  the  populace, 
^nd  of  course  liable  to  many  infamous  and  unjust  im- 


DICTIOKARY.  349 

putations,  particularly  that  of  venality,  a  charge,  which 
the  ill  natured  world,  not  unacquainted  with  Mr. 
Fielding's,  want  of  economy  and  passion  forexpence, 
were  too  ready  to  cast  upon  him.  His  histories  of 
"Tom  Jones,"  and  "Amelia"  were  entirely  planned 
and  executed,  whilst  he  was  distracted  by  a  multipli- 
city of  avocations  which  surrounded  him  as  a  public 
magistrate;  and  his  constitution  greatly  impaired  and 
enfeebled,  by  more  severe  attacks  of  the  gout  than  he 
had  felt  before.  At  length,  his  whole  frame  was  so 
entirely  shattered  by  continual  inroads  of  complicated 
disorders,  and  the  incessant  fatigue  of  the  business  of 
his  office,  that,  by  the  advice  of  his  physicians,  he  set 
out  for  Lisbon.  Even  in  this  distressful  condition,  his 
imagination  still  continued  making  the  strongest  ef*. 
forts  to  display  itself;  and  the  last  gleam  of  his  wit 
and  humour  faintly  sparkled  in  the  "Journal"  he  left 
behind  him  of  his  "Voyage"  to  that  place  ;  which  was 
published  in  London,  in  1755. 

In  about  two  m.onths  after  his  arrival  at  Lisbon, 
he  died  in  1754,  in  his  48th  year.  His  works  have  been 
published  in  several  sizes,  with  "An  Essay  on  the  Life 
and  Geniusof  the  Author,"  by  Arthur  Murphy,  Esq, 


FLAVEL,  (John)  an  eminent  non-conformist 
Divine,  was  educated  at  University  College,  in  Ox- 
ford, England,  and  became  minister  at  Deptford,  and 
afterwards  at  Dartmouth  in  Devonshire,  where  he  re- 
sided the  greatest  part  of  his  life,  and  was  greatly  ad- 
mired for  his  preaching.  Though  he  was  generally 
respected  at  Dartmouth,  yet,  in  1685,  several  of  the  al- 
dermen of  that  place,  attended  by  the  rabble,  carried 
about  a  ridiculous  effigy  of  him,  to  which  were  affix- 
ed, the  Bill  of  Exclusion  and  the  Covenant.  Upon 
this  occasioujhe  thought  it  prudent  to  withdraw  from 
the  town  ;  not  knowing  what  treatment  he  might 
meet  with  from  a  riotous  mob,  headed  by  magistrates, 
who  were  themselves  amongst  the  lowest  and  most 


3aO  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

worthless  of  mankind.     Part  of  his  *'  Diary"  published 
after  his  death,  must  give  the  reader  a  high  idea  of 
his  piety.       He  died  in   1691,  aged   61  ;  and  after 
his  death,  his  works,  which  consisted  of  many  pieces 
of  practical  divinity,  were  printed  in  two  volumes, 
folio.     Among  these,  the  most  famous  are  his  "Na-'; 
vigation  Spiritualized,  or  a  New  Compass  for  Seamen, 
consisting  of  32  points  of  pleasant  observations   ancj. 
serious  reflections,"  of  which,  there  have  been  seveii 
ral  editions,   in  8vo.  and  his  *'  Husbandry  Spiritual-* 
ized   &;c.  with  occasional  meditations  upon   beasts, 
birds,  trees,  flowers,  rivers  and  several  other  objects;'* 
of  which  there  have,  likewise,  been  several  editions, 
in  8vo. 

FLETCHER,  (Andrew)  ofSalton,  a  celebrated 
Scots  patriot  and  political  writer,  was  descended 
fi'om  an  ancient  family,  who  trace  their  origin  to  on^ 
of  the  follovvxrs  of  William  the  Conqueror.  He  wai| 
the  son  of  Sir  Robert  Fletcher,  and  born  in  the  year 
1650. 

The  tuition  of  our  author  was  committed  hy  his  fa- 
ther, on  his  death-bed  to  Mr.  (afterwards  Bishop) 
Burnet,  then  his  parish  minister,  in  whose  care  he  re- 
ceived a  pious,  learned  and  polite  education.  En- 
dowed with  uncommiOn  genius,  and  possessed  of  vir- 
tues and  abilities  peculiarly  suited  to  the  times 
which  he  lived,  Mr.  Fletcher  quickly  shone  forth  th 
ornament  of  his  country,  and  the  champion  of  its  free- 
dom. Having  in  the  course  of  his  classical  studie.s 
and  historical  reading,  been  impressed  vi^ith  an  enthu- 
siastic admiration  both  of  ancient  and  modern  repub- 
lics, he  had  early  contracted  an  ardent  love  of  liberty! 
and  an  aversion  to  arbitrary  rule.  Hence  his  spirit, 
the  more  readily  took  alarm  at  certain  m.casures  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  II.  Being  representative  for  the  shire 
of  Lothian,  to  that  parliam.ent,  where  the  Duke  of 
York  was  commissioner,  he  openly  opposed  the  de- 


4 


DICTIONARY.  351 

signs  of  that  prince  against  the  liberties  of  Scotland. 
For  this  reason,  he  became  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  the 
Duke;  and  was  at  length  obliged  to  flee  to  Holland, 
to  avoid  the  fatal  consequences  of  prosecutions,  which, 
on  various  pretences,  were  commenced  against  him. 
Being  summoned  before  the  privy  council  and  not 
appearing,  he  v/as  declared  traitor  and  his  estate  con- 
fiscated. 

In  Holland,  he  and  Mr.  Baillie,  were  the  only  per- 
sons whom  the  earl  of  Argyle  consulted,  concerning 
the  designs,  which  were  then  in  agitation.  In  TTSl, 
they  came  over  to  England,  in  order  to  concert  mat- 
ters with  thefr  party  in  that  country  ;  and  w^ere  the 
only  two,  who  were  intrusted  so  far  as  to  be  admitted 
to  the  secrets  of  Lord  RusseFs  council  of  six.  Air. 
Fletcher  managed  his  part  of  the  negociation,  with 
so  much  address,  that  administration  could  find  no 
pretext  for  siezing  him  ;  nor  could  they  fix  upon  him 
those  articles,  on  account  of  which  Mr.  Baillie  was 
condemned  ;  to  whose  honour,  let  it  be  remembered, 
that,  although  offered  a  pardon,  on  condition  of  ac- 
cusing his  friend,  he  persisted  in  rejecting  the  proposal 
with  indignation. 

Mr.  Fletcher  having  joined  the  Duke  of  Monmouth 
upon  his  landing,  received  a  principal  command  un- 
der him.  But  the  Duke  was  deprived  of  his  services, 
on  the  following  occasion,  as  related  by  Sir  John  Dal- 
rymple.  "  Being  sent  upon  an  expedition,  and  not 
esteeming  ti.ues  of  danger  to  be  times  of  ceremony, 
he  had  seized  for  his  own  riding,  the  horse  of  the 
Mayor  of  Lynne,  which  stood  ready  equipped  for  the 
use  of  his  master.  The  Mayor,  hearing  this,  ran  in  a 
passion  to  Fletcher,  gave  him  opprobrious  language, 
shook  his  cane,  and  attempted  to  strike.  Fletcher, 
though  rigid  in  the  duties  of  morality,  yet,  having 
been  accustomed  to  foreign  services,  both  by  sea  and 
land,  in  w^hich  he  had  a(!:quired  high  ideas  of  the 
honour  of  a  soldier  and  a  gentleman,  and  of  the  af- 
front of  a  cane,  pulled  out  his  pistol  and  shot  him 


352  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

dead  on  the  spot.  The  action  was  unpopular.  A 
clamour  was  raised  against  it  amongst  the  people  of 
the  country  ;  in  a  body  they  waited  upon  the  Duke  ]{ 
with  their  complaints  ;  and  he  was  forced  to  de- 
sire  the  only  soldier,  and  almost  the  only  man  of  parts 
in  his  army,  to  abandon  him.  "  With  Fletcher,  all 
Monmouth's  chance  in  war  left  him."  Bat  in  a  ma-\ 
nuscript  memoir  belonging  to  the  family,  v/e  have  the; 
following  notice,  concerning  Mr.  Fletcher's  connec-^ 
tion  with  Monmouth,  in  which  his  separation  fromj 
that  prince  is  very  difterently  accounted  for.  "Tg^ 
Lord  Marischal,  Mr.  Fletcher  explained  the  mo-^ 
tives,  which  induced  him  first  to  join  and  afterwards 
abandon  the  Duke  of  Monmouth.  The  former  he 
ascribed  to  the  Duke's  manifesto  in  Scotland,  relating 
to  religion,  and  in  England  to  liberty.  For  the  lat- 
ter, he  accounted  by  the  disgust  produced  in  his  own 
mind,  and  that  of  his  associates,  when  the  Duke  de- 
clared himself  King,  and  broke  faith  with  all,  who 
embarked  with  him  on  his  principles.  He  complain-' 
ed  heavily  of  the  account  commonly  given  of  the 
death  of  the  Mayor  of  Lynne,  and  mentioned  to  lord 
Marischal,  in  proof  of  the  contrary,  that  he  did  not 
leave  the  Duke  till  he  came  to  Taunton,  where  he  was 
proclaimed  King,  several  weeks  after  the  death  of 
that  gentleman.** 

Seeing  all  the  efforts  of  himself  and  his  friends  in 
favour  of  liberty  frustrated,  he  endeavoured  to  secure 
his  own  personal  freedom  by  taking  his  passage  in  the 
first  ship  bound  to  a  foreign  country.  It  was  his 
misfortune  to  land  in  Spain,  where  he  was  immedi- 
ately arrested,  cast  into  prison,  and  guarded  by  three 
diflPerent  bands  of  soldiers,  till  a  vessel  should  be  pre- 
pared to  carry  him  in  chains,  as  a  victim  to  the  court 
of  London.  But  on  the  morning  before  the  ship  could 
sail,  whilst  he  looked  pensive  through  the  bars,  which 
secured  the  window  of  his  room,  he  was  hailed  by  a 
venerable  personage,  who  made  signs  to  speak  with 
him.  The  prison-doors  he  found  open  s  and,  whilst  his 


DICTIONARY*  S53 

friendly  conductor  waved  to  him  to  follow  him,  be 
passed  through  three  different  guards  of  soldiers,  all 
fast  asleep.  Without  being  permitted  to  offer  his 
thanks  to  his  deliverer,  he  found  himself  obliged  to 
prosecute  with  all  speed  the  journey,  in  which  he 
was  directed  by  a  person,  concerning  whom  he  could 
never  collect  any  information  ;  and  in  disguise,  he 
procceeded  in  safety,  through  Spain.  ^  He  felt  a  pe- 
'culiar  pleasure  in  relating  to  his  friends,  instances  of 
the  care  of  Providence,  which  he  had  experienced 
during  his  exile  j  and  entertained  them  often  with 
narratives  of  this  kind,  which  he  always  mingled  with 
religious  reflections. 

During  his  exile,  he  maintained  a  frequent  and  ex- 
tensive correspondence  with  the  friends  of  liberty  at 
home;  and  he  partly  employed  him.self  in  making  a 
curious  collection  of  books,  which  compose  the  best 
private  library  in  Scotland.  But  his  genius  also 
prompted  him  to  engage  In  more  active  employ- 
ments. He  repaired  to  Hungary,  and  served  several 
campaigns,  as  a  volunteer,  under  the  Duke  of  Lor- 
rain,  with  great  reputation.  At  length,  understand- 
ing that  the  great  design  then  progressing  in  Holland, 
and  upon  the  issue  of  which  he  considered  the  liber- 
ties of  Britain  to  be  suspended,  had  attained  a  consi^ 
durable  degree  of  maturity,  he  hastened  thither  ; 
where  his  counsels  and  address  were  of  eminent 
service.  He  came  over  with  King  William  ;  and  in 
zeal,  activity,  penetration  and  practical  skill,  proved 
inferior  to  none  of  the  leaders  in  the  revolution. 

Such,  however,  was  his  magnaminity,  that,  from  a 
survey  of  King  William's  papers  it  appears,  that, 
while  others  laboured  to  turn  this  grand  event  to  the 
emolument  of  themselves  and  the  aggrandizement  of 
their  families,  Mr.  Fletcher  asked  nothing.  His  estate 
had  been  forfeited,  and  his  house  abandoned  to  milita- 
ry discretion;  his  fortune  was  greatly  shattered,  and 
his  family  reduced  to  circumstances  of  distress.  Noth- 
ing was  given  him  in  recompence  for  all  his  suffer- 

Vol.  II.  Nc.  14.  Y2 


S54  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


ipgs.  On  the  contrary,  be,  together  with  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton,  was  distinguished  by  marks  of  royal  and 
ministerial  dislike.  Still,  whatever  private  resentmen 
he  might  entertain,  it  appeared,  that  his  ruling  prin 
ciple  was  the  good  of  his  country;  and  that  to  thi 
grand  object  of  his  heart,  he  was  willing  to  sacrifice 
all  personal  considerations.  For  when,  in  1692,  th« 
abdicated  king^meditated  an  invasion,  Mr.  Fletche 
addressed  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  in  whic 
every  argument  is  employed  with  skill  and  energy 
engage  his  grace  to  forget  his  injuries,  and,  in  th 
present  crisis,  to  employ  the  extensive  influence  an 
authority  he  then  possessed  in  the  cause  of  freedor 
and  of  his  country.  This  letter  produced  the  desire 
effect,  and  the  duke  returned  to  his  duty,  from  whicli 
in  part,  he  had  begun  to  deviate. 

To  follow  our  author  through  all  the  mazes  of  h 
political  life,  subsequent  to  the  revolution,  far  exceed 
our  limits.     One  or  two  circumstances  more  shal 
therefore,  suffice.       Being  elected  a  member  for  th 
parliament,  1683,  he  shewed  an  uniform  zeal  for  th 
interest  of  his  country.    The  thought  of  England's  dc 
mineering  over  Scotland,  was  what  his  generous  soii 
could  not  endure.      The  indignities  and  oppression 
•which  Scotland  lay  under,  galled  him  to  the  heart ;  s 
that  in  his   learned"  and  elaborate  discourses,  he  ex 
posed  them   with  undaunted  courage  and  pathcti 
eloquence.     From  the  purest  moitves,  and  most  pa 
triotic,  though,  perhaps,  mistaken  principles,  he  op- 
posed the  uniting  two  kingdom.s,  which  had   been 
distinguished,  during  so  many  ages,  for  inveterate  and 
bloody  animosity.     Considering  that  tra::saction  as  a 
reproach  and  disgrace  to  his  country,  he  resolved  to 
quit  a  kingdom,  which,  he  declared,  would  never  have 
consented  to  the  annihilation  of  its  sovereignty,  but  hf 
the  influence  of  English  gold.     "  Will  you,'*  cried  the 
Indignant  patriot,  "consent  that  the  majority  of  your 
nobles  shall  be  degraded,  and  that  your  gentry  shall 
be  only  partially  admitted  into  councils,  which  are  to 


DICTIONARY.  $55 

dispose  of  the  lives  and  j3roperties  of  you  all:  coun- 
cils, in  which  the  voice  and  opinions  of  the  few  will 
be  overruled  by  the  greater  number;  and  the  interests 
of  their  new  ally  will,  in  every  instance,  be  sacjlficed 
to  the  venal  purposes  of  our  southern  neighbours,  who 
have  gained  over  us  by  the  arts  of  corruption,  that  as- 
cendancy, which  they  never  were  able  to  procure  by 
tke  sword." 

But  although  Mr.  Fletcher  was  opposed  to  the  un- 
ion, when  he  found  that  notwithstanding  his  utmost 
exertions,  that  measure  would  certainly  be  carried  in- 
to effect,  he  was  the  means  of  introducing  certain 
limitations,  for  which  his  countrymen  have  to  thank 
him  even  to  the  present  day.  He,  in  particular,  got 
the  act  of  security  passed,  which  declared  that  tlie 
two  crowns  should  not  pass  to  the  same  head,  till 
Scotland  was  secured  in  her  liberties,  civil  and  reli- 
gious. Lord  Godolphin  was,  at  last,  forced  into 
the  union,  to  avoid  a  civil  war  after  the  Queen's  de- 
mise. 

j  We  must  not  omit  mentioning,  that  in  the  ardor  of 
his  political  career,  Mr.  Fletcher  forgot  not  the  inte- 
rest of  the  place,  which  gave  him  birth.  He  esteem- 
ed the  education  of  youth  one  of  the  noblest  objects 
of  government.  On  this  subject,  he  wrote  a  treatise, 
still  extant,  most  characteristic  of  himself ;  and  he  es- 
tablished, at  Salton,  a  foundation  for  the  same  purpose 
of  great  utility  whilst  it  lasted.  This  great  man  died, 
ii:  London,  in  17 16,  aged  sixty-six. 

That  Mr.  Fletcher  received  neither  honours  nor 
emoluments  from  king  William,  may,  perhaps,  be  in 
part  attributed  to  himself;  a  circumstance,  however, 
which  adds  greatly  to  thejustre  of  his  character.  His 
uncomplying  virtue,  and  the  sternness  of  his  principles, 
were  ill  calculated  to  conciliate  courtly  favour.  He  was 
sozeaiousan  asscrtor  of  the  libertiesofthe  people,  that 
he  was  ever  jealous  of  the  grovving  power  of  all 
pnnces,  in  whom  he  justly  considered  ambition  to  he 
^:3  natural,  that  he  was  not  for  trusting  the  best  of 


356  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

kings  with  the  power,  which  ill  ones  might  make  use 
of  against  their  subjects:  he  was  of  opinion  that  all 
princes  were  made  by  and  for  the  benefit  of  the  peop'.  , 
and  that  they  should  have  no  power  but  that  of  do 
good.     This,    which  made  him  resist  king  Cha 
and-  invade   King  James,  led  him  also  to  oppose  th 
giving  so  much  power  to  King  William. 

Mr.  Fletcher  was  master  of  the  English,  Latin 
Greek,  French  and  Italian  languages;  and  well  ven 
ed  in  history,  the  civil  law,  and  all  kinds  of  learning.' 
In  his  travels,  he  had  not  only  acquired  considerable 
know'ledge  in  the  art  of  war,  but  also  became  versant 
in  the  respective  interests  of  the  several  princes  and 
states  of  Europe.  In  private  life,  he  was  affable  to 
his  friends,  and  free  from  all  manner  of  vice.  He  had 
a  penetrating,  clear  and  lively  apprehension;  but  he 
is  said  to  have  been  too  much  wedded  to  opinions, 
and  impatient  of  contradiction.  He  possessed  an  un- 
common  elevation  of  m.ind,  accompanied  with  a 
'Warmth  of  temper,  which  would  suffer  him.  to  brook, 
from  no  rank  among  men,  nor  in  any  place,  an  indig- 
nity. Of  this  he  exhibited  a  singular  proof  in  the 
Scots  parliament.  The  earl  of  Stair,  secretary  of  state, 
and  minister  for  Scotland,  having  in  the  heat  of  de- 
bate, used  an  improper  expression  against  Mr.  Fletch- 
er, he  seized  him  by  his  robe,  and  insisted  upon  pub- 
lic and  immediate  satisfaction.  His  lordship  was  in 
stantly  obliged  to  beg  his  pardon,  in  presence  of  par- 
liament. 

Mr.  Fletcher  was,  by  far,  the  finest  speaker  in  th 
parliam.ent  of  Scotland;  the  earl  of  Stair  alone  rivalle 
him.  The  latter  was  famed  for  a  splendid ;  the  former 
for  a  clear  and  nervous  eloquence.  He  formed  his 
style,  on  the  models  of  antiquity;  and  Sir  John  Dal- 
rymple  observes,  that  the  small  volumiC  of  his  works, 
though  imperfectly  collected,  is  one  of  the  very  few 
classical  compositions  in  the  English  language. 


DICTIONARY.  S57 

FLOOD,  (Henry)  a  celebrated  Irish  patriot  and 
orator,  was  the  eldest  son  of  Warden  Flood,  Lord 
Chief  Justice  of  the  King*s  Bench,  in  Ireland,  and 
born  in  1732.  After  residing  about  three  years  in 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  where  he  was  more  distin- 
guished for  the  beauty  of  his  person  and  the  gaiety 
of  his  manners,  than  for  application  to  study  ^  he  was 
removed  in  1749,  to  the  university  of  Oxford.  Here 
he  spent  two  years,  during  which  time  he  lived  in 
great  intimacy  with  the  late  learned  Mr.  Thomas 
Tyrwhitt.  The  first  occasion  of  his  applying  intent- 
ly to  literary  attainments,  was  his  finding  that  gentle- 
man and  some  literary  friends  frequently  conversing, 
at  their  evening  meetings,  on  subjects,  of  which  he 
was  ignorant;  at  which  he  felt  himself  so  much  dis- 
tressed, that  he  resolved  to  preserve  almost  an  entire 
silence  in  their  company  for  six.  months,  during  which 
time  he  entirely  devoted  himself  to  study,  beginning 
with  a  course  of  mathematics  and  then  reading  such 
of  the  Greek  and  Roman  historians,  as  he  had  not 
before  perused.  From  that  time  to  his  death,  he  was 
a  constant  and  regular  student,  even  whilst  he  was 
engaged  in  all  the  turbulence  of  political  Ilk,  and 
became  at  length  so  complete  a  master  of  the  Greek 
language,  that  he  read  it,  with  almost  as  much  facility 
the  as  English. 

In  1759,  he  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  Irish 
House  of  Commons;  but,  during  that  session,  made 
no  trial  of  his  vast  oratorical  powers.  In  1761,  he 
was  again  chosen  a  member  for  the  new  parliament, 
and  soon  stood  forward  as  the  great  leader  of  the  op- 
position in  that  country.  The  first  important  point, 
which  he  attempted  to  effect  in  parliament  was,  an 
explanation  of  the  law  of  Poyning,  by  a  miscon- 
struction of  which,  for  more  than  a  century,  the  privy 
council  of  Ireland,  had  assumed  such  a  power  as  to 
render  the  parliament  of  that  kingdom,  a  mere  cy- 
pher :  and,  in  consequence  of  his  repeated  eflTorts  oji 
this  subject,  the  obnoxious  part  of  that  lav/  was,  at  a 


S58  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

subsequent  period,  repealed,  though  in  a  IcssunqualU 
fied  manner  than  it  would  have  been,  if  the  reforma- 
tion of  it  had  not  been  taken  out  of  his  hands. 

The  next  great  measure,  which  he  undertook,  was 
a  bill  for  limiting  the  duration  of  parliament,  which,  in 
Ireland,  had  always  subsisted  for  the  life  of  the  king; 
After  having  twice  unsuccessfully  attempted  to  carry 
this  measure,  he,  at  length,  by  constant  perseveranccj^ 
elfocted  it  in  1769,  when  the  Octennial  bill  was  past;' 
a  bill,  which  first  gave  any  thing  like  a  constitutioi 
to  Ireland,  and,  as  it  greatly  increased   the  consei[ 
quence  of  every  man  of  property  in  that  country,  was, 
in  fact,  the  origin  and  ground-work  of  that  emancipa- 
tion and  those  additional  privileges,  which  they  after- 
wards claimed  and  obtained  from  England. 

The  British  parliament  being  taught  wisdom  by  tb 
loss  of  their  late  American  colonies,  having  in  1782;^ 
yielded  to  the  wishes  of  the  Irish  nation,  by  a  repeal 
of  the  Act  of  George  I.  which  declared  that,  "  the 
kingdom  of  Ireland  ought  to  be  subordinate  to, 
and  dependent  upon,  the  imperial  crown  of  Great 
Britain,  and  that  the  parliament  of  England  hath 
power  to  make  laws  to  bind  the  people  of  Ireland." 
Mr.  Flood,  in  two  very  able  and  unanswerable  speech- 
es, maintained,  that  the  simple  repeal  of  this  declara- 
tory act  was  no  security  against  a  similar  claim  found- 
ed on  the  principle  of  that  act,  being,  at  some  future 
time,  revived  by  England;  and,  though  three  gentle- 
men only  of  the  whole  House  of  Commons  of  Ireland 
concurred  with  him  on  this  occasion,  he  had  the  sa- 
tisfaction to  see  his  doctrine  approved  and  ratified  by 
the  minister  and  parliament  of  England,  who  shortly 
afterwards  passed  an  act,  for  ever  renouncing  that 
claim. 

In  1775,  he  had  been  appointed  privy  counsellor  in 
both  kingdoms,  and  constituted  one  of  the  vice  trea- 
surers of  Ireland,  which  office,  after  holding  it  six  years, 
he  voluntarily  resigned  in  1781,  and  soon  after, his 
name  was  struck  off  from  the  list  of  privy  counsellors. 


DICTIONARY.  359 

Previous  to  his  acceptance  of  this  office,  he  made  a 
precise  and  explicit  stipulation  with  government  in 
favour  of  all  the  great  principles,  which  he  had  before 
maintained  in  parliament,  from  none  of  which  he  ever 
departed.  He  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  British 
parliament,  in  1783,  in  which  station  he  continued  till 
the  time  of  hjs  death. 

Mr.  Flood's  first  known  literary  production  was, 
"Verses  on  the  Death  of  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales," 
published  in  the  Oxford  Collection,  in  1751.  He 
was  also  author  of  an  "Ode  on  Fam.e,"  and  a 
"Translation  of  the  first  Pythian  Ode  of  Pindar," 
which  were  printed  in  1785.  There  are  several  of 
his  speeches,  both  in  the  British  and  Irish  parliaments, 
extant ;  the  last  of  which  was  delivered  in  the  House 
of  Commons  of  Great  Britain,  March  4,  1790,  and 
had  for  its  object  a  reform  of  the  representation  of 
parliament  ;  on  which  Mr.  Fox  complimented  him, 
by  saying,  that  his  scheme  was  the  most  rational, 
which  had  ever  been  produced  on  that  subject.  In 
the  social  intercourse  of  private  life,  Mr.  Flood  was 
uncommonly  pleasing,  joining  to  a  very  extensive 
knowledge  on  various  subjects,  a  great  facility  and 
gentleness  of  manners,  and  like  most  men  endowed 
with  splendid  talents,  possessing  remarkable  modesty, 
and  unassuming  manners.  On  every  great  occasion, 
he  shewed  a  noble  and  comprehensive  mind,  replete 
with  knowledge,  vigour,  acuteness  and  argument. 
His  wit,  sarcasm  and  happy  allusions,  would  have 
highly  distinguished  any  other  man  -,  but  convincing 
being  his  chief  object, -and  the  faculty  of  reasoning 
his  principal  power,  his  adversaries  have  represented 
it  as  his  only  talent.  Powerful  as  he  was  in  stating, 
enforcing  and  illustrating  subjects,  which  he  pro- 
pounded in  parliament,  and  on  which  he  always  shew- 
ed, that  he  had  obtained  every  possible  information, 
he  was  still  more  impressive  in  reply,  always  preserv- 
ing his  temper,  ard  refuting  his  opponents  with  the 
same  perspicuity,  precision,  correctness  and  elegance 


360  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

of  language,  which  marked  his  original  speech.  His 
memory  was  so  tenacious,  that  he  frequently,  at  the 
end  of  a  long  debate,  answered  every  member  of  any 
weight,  who  had  spoken  on  the  opposite  side,  refuting 
each  of  their  arguments,  in  exact  order,  without  the 
aid  of  a  single  note.  Few  men  have  studied  the  En- 
glish language  more  attentively  than  he,  or  were  bet- 
ter acquainted  with  all  its  niceties  of  constructioa 
and  most  subtle  discriminations  ;  in  consequence  of 
which,  whilst  he  hurried  away  by  the  strength  of  his 
arguments,  he  delighted  every  person  of  taste  and 
judgment  by  a  certain  happiness  of  diction,  whi( 
added  infinite  grace  and  beauty  to  his  eloquence. 

We  shall  conclude  our  account  of  this  eminenj 
orator  and  statesmen  with  this  remark,  that,  if  evei 
the  history  of  Ireland  shall  be  written  by  an  able  an( 
impartial  person,  it  will  place  in  the  most  distinguish- 
ed rank,  the  revered  name  of  Henry  Flood,  who  firsGj 
roused  Irishmen  to  assert  their  constitutional  free- 
dom. In  the  midst  of  his  fame  and  public  utility, 
he  was  seized  with  a  pleurisy,  which  put  a  period  to 
his  illustrious  life,  Dec.  2d,  1791. 

FOOTE  (Samuel)  a  man  of  genius,  a  dramatic 
writer,  and  a  mimic,  who,  descended  from  respecta- 
ble ancestors,  and  inheriting  an  estate  of  upwards  of 
20,000  dollars  per  annum,  reduced  himself  by  a  fa- 
tal propensity  to  gaming,  and  other  extravagances  to 
great  pecuniary  embarassment. 

He  was  born  at  Truro,  Cornwall,  in  1721,  and  educaJt- 
ed  at  Worcester  college,  Oxford,  from  whence  he  was 
removed  to  the  Temple,  as  he  was  designed  for  the  bar. 
He  married  a  young  lady  of  a  good  family  and  some 
fortune ;  but  their  tempers  not  agreeing,  a  perfect  har- 
mony did  not  long  subsist  between  them.  He  now 
launched  out  into  all  the  fashionable  extravagances  of 
the  age,  and,  in  a  few  years  spent  the  whole  of  his 
fortune.     His  necessities  led  him  to  the  stage,  but  at 


DICTIONARY.  SOi 

he  was  never  a  capital  actor  of  the  plays  of  others, 
his  salary  was  very  unequal  to  his  gay  and  expensive 
turn;  and  he  "contracted  debts,  which  obliged  hinv 
for  some  tiirre/to  live  in  conceahnent.  "He,  on  jbJ^ 
occasion,  relieved  his  necessities  by  the  foUoW'ing  stra- 
tagenn.  Str  Francis  Delaval  had  long -been  his  in- 
timate friend,  and  had  dissipated  his  fortune,  by  ex- 
travagance simitar  to  his  own.  A  lady,  who  was, 
likewise,  an  intimate  acquaintance  of  Foote,  and 
exceedingly  rich,  was  fortunatelv,  at  that  ;i me,  bent 
upon  a  matrimonial  scheme.  Foote  strongly  recom- 
mended to  her  to  consult,  upon  this  m.omentous  occa- 
sloUj  the  conjuror  in  the  Old  Bailey,  whom  he  represent- 
ed as  a  man  of  surprising  skill  and  penetration.  .-He 
employed  an  acquaintance  of  his  own,  to  personate 
the  conjuror,  who  depicted  Sir  Francis  at  full  length; 
described  the  time  when,  the  place  where,  and,  the 
dress,  in  which  she  w^ould  see  him.  The  lady  was 
so  struck  with  the  coincidence  of  every  circumstance, 
that  she  married  Sir  Francis  in  a  few  days,  who,  for 
this  service,  settled  an  annuity  upon  Foote,  and  thus 
ennabled  him  once  more  to  emerge  from  obscurity. 

In  1747,  he  opened  the  little  theatre  in  the  Hay  Mar- 
ket, taking  upon  himself  the  double  character  of  au- 
thor and  performer,  and  appeared  in  a  dramatic  piece 
of  his  own  composition,  called  "  The  Diversions  o£ 
the  Morning.*'  This  piece  was  nothing  more  than 
the  introduction  of  well-known  characters  in  real  life, 
whose  manner  of  conversing  and  expressing  them- 
selves, he  had  a  most  amazing  talent  of  imitating,  even 
to  the  very  voice  of  those  he  intended  to  ta/ce  off. 
This  performance,  at  first,  met  with  some  opposition 
from  the  civil  magistrates,  under  the  sanction  of  the 
act  of  parliament,  for  limiting  the  number  of  play- 
houses, as  well  as  from  the  jealousy  of  one  of.  the 
managers  of  Drury  Lane  theatre;  but  the  autV.oc 
being  patronized  by  many  of  the  principal  nobility, 
•and  other  persons  of  distinction,  this  opposition  wa^ 
overruled,  and  with  only  altering  the  title  of  his  piscc 
Vol.11.    xVo.  14.  Z'2 


S62^  WEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

to*^Mr.  Foote  giving  Tea  to  his- Friends,"  he  proceec?-. 
ed  without  further  molestation  and  represented  it  for 
upwards  of  forty  times  to  crowded  and  spJendid 
audiences. 

The  ensuing  season,  he  produced  another  piece  of 
the  same  kind,  called  "An  Auction  of  Pictures,"  in 
w  hich  he  introduced  several  new  characters,  all  of 
whom,  however,  were  extremely  weli  known.  Tbi* 
piece  had  also  a  very  great  run,  lot  was  any  paini^ 
spared  to  procure  this  success  ;  for  it  is  to  be  noted,^ 
that  he  himself  represented  all  the  principal  characteri 
of  each  piece,  where  his  great  mimic  povvers  wer^ 
necessary,  shifting  from  one  to  another,  with  all  th&J 
dexterity  of  a  Proteus.  || 

These  performances  wei^,  by  no  means,  regular 
pieces,  but  possessed,  in  a  considerable  degree,  the 
grand  dramatic  requisites.     In  a  vein   of  irresistible- 
humour,  and  in  a  mode  so  peculiarly  his  own,  that  it, 
may  be  said  to  have  perished  with  him,  he  successful- 
ly  lashed  vicious  affectation,  strange  whim,  absurd 
pride  and   personal   peculiarity,    by  licentious  dis- 
tortion, and  broad  caricature,  but  with  certain  resem-;«| 
blances  in  voice,  manner,  gait,  and  dress,  too  striking-ll 
to    escape  the  public   eye,,  whilst    selfishness    and' 
imposition,  disguised  in  the  demure  exterior  of  religion>- 
and  pretended  sanctity  were  unmasked,  ridiculed  and;§ 
placed  in  the  most  absurd  points  of  view. 

But  here  he  did  not  stop;  for,  in  his  rage  to  expose^^ 
every  known  character  to  ridicule,  he  indiscrimlnatelj 
excited  the  risible  faculties  of  his  audience,  at  real  v 
ces,  and  harmless  infirmities,  at  vile  hypocrisy  an( 
pure  religion  ;  and  such  were  the  extent  of  his  laugh* 
ter  provoking  powers,  that  even  the  more  thinking 
part  of  his  company  found  themselves  compelled  to 
join  in  the  laugh,  though  they  could  not  help  correct- 
ing themselves,  the  next  moment  for  such  uncharita- 
ble ebuliticns  of  mirth,  as  were,  for  the  most  part,, 
raised  at  the  expence  of  misfortune,  personal  deformi- 
ty,, friendsliipa,  private  worthy,  and  even  of  those  things^ 


DICTIOMAHY.  BG$ 

wlilch  a  large  and  respectable  part  of  the  communi- 
ty, deem  sacred. 

His  **  Knights"  which  was  the  produce  of  the  third 
season,  was  a  performance  of  somewhat  more  dramatic 
regularity  ;  but  still,  although  his  plot  and  characters 
•seemed  less  immediately  personal,  it  was  apparent^ 
that  he  kept  some  particular  real  persons  strongly  in 
view,  in  the  performance;  and  the  town  took  upon 
themselves  to  fix  them,  where  the  resemblance  ap- 
peared to  be  the  most  striking.  Thus  Mr.  Foote 
continued  from  time  to  time,  to  select  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  the  public,  such  characters  as  well  ge»ie- 
ral  as  individual,  as  seemed  most  likely  to  engage 
their  attention. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  follow  this  genius  thro' 
the  course  of  his  dramatic  progress,  as  to  all  the 
pieces  he  has  written,  with  a  history  of  particulars. 
Suffice  it  to  observe,  that,  from  1752,  to  1761,  he  con- 
tinued to  perform  at  one  of  the  theatres  every  season, 
as  fancy  or  interest  directed  his  choice,  generally  for 
a  stated  number  of  nights;  and  on  these  engage- 
ments, he  usually  brought  out  a  new  piece.  And 
thus  he  went  on,  till  a  very  pressing  embarassment  in 
his  affairs,  compelled  him  to  perform  ^'The  Minor," 
at  the  Hay-Market,  in  the  summer  of  1760,  with  such 
■a  company,  as  he  could  hastily  collect.  Hencefor- 
ward he  pursued  the  scheme  of  occupying  that  theatre, 
when  the  others  were  shut  up;  and  from  17.62  to  the 
season  before  his  death,  he  regularly  performed  there. 

In  the  year  1766,  being  on  a  party  of  pleasure,  with 
the  late  Duke  of  York  and  some  otl>ers,  Mr.  Foote, 
had  the  misfortune  to  break  his  leg,  by  a  fall  from  his 
horse;  in  consequence  of  which,  he  was  compelled 
to  undergo  an  amputation.  This  accident  so  sensibly 
affected  the  Duke,  that  he  made  a  point  of  obtaining  a 
patent  for  Mr.  Foote  for  life;  whereby  he  was  allow- 
ed to  perform  at  the  little  theatre  in  the  Hay-market, 
from  the  1 5  th,  of  May  to  the  1 5th  of  September  every 
year. 


364  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

He  now  became  a  greater  favourite  with  the  towm 
than  ever ;  his  very  laughable  pieces  with  his  stilU 
more  laughable  performances  constantly  filled  hi^ 
house  :  and.  his  receipts,  were,  in  some  seasons,  a]^ 
most  incredible.  But  his  income,  great  as  it  was,f 
did  not  keep  pace  with  his  expences,  for  besides  what 
he  spent  in  vicrous  indulgences,  his  generosity  and 
hospitality  knew  no  bounds.  i 

in  1776,  he  drew  a  character  of  a  lady  of  quality 
then  much  talked  of,  who  had  influence  enough  t 
hinder  his  play  from  being  represented  ;  and,  in  th 
course  of  ,  this  conflict,  certain  imputations  werei 
thrown  out  against  him,  which  ripened  at  lengt" 
into  a  legal  charge.  In  short,  he  was  accused  of 
unnatural  practices,  and  though  the  accusation  was 
supposed  to  have  originated  from  malice,  and  he* 
was  honourably  acquitted,  yet  the  shock,  he  received 
irom  this  disgracing  situation,  is  believed  to  have  had 
a  fatal  effect  upon  him. 

Finding  his  health  decline,  he  entered  into  an  a-i 
greement  with  Mr.  Colem.an,  for  his  patent  of  the 
theatre  ;  according  to  which  he  was  to  receive  from 
that  gentleman  7104  dollars  per  annum,  besides  a 
stipulated  sum,  whenever  he  chose  to  perform.  But 
his  spirits  now  began  to  fail,  and  he  applied  to  his  old 
resource  the  bottle,  but  in  vain  :  for  during  these  tem 
porary  flashes,  which  this  false  friend  affords,  inter-f 
vals  of  silence  occurred,  which  could  only  be  attribut-^ 
ed  to  mental  anguish  in  him,  or  the  fear,  with  whiph 
he  inspired  others^  of  the  keenness  of  his  satire,  and 
the  overwhelming  tumultuous  attack  of  his  humour, 
which,  when  exerted,  always  predominated,  bcaring^ 
down  every  thing  and  every  body  before  it. 

But,  indeed  a  life  spent  in  direct  violation  of  moral 
duty,  and  whose  best  praise  it  was,  th^t  it  provided 
laughter  for  the  giddy,  and  indecent  merriment  for 
the^  unthinking,  whilst  reason  and  religion  sighed  at 
his  conduct,  could  not  be  expected  to  end  with  com 
fort  or  substantial  hope.     In  the  midst  of  company, 


J 


DICTIONARY.  3&0 

he  was  often  observed  to  be  lost  In  thought,  whilst 
frequent  sighs,  and  a  corresponding  countenance  be- 
I  trayed  an  uneasy  mind.  A  friend  congratulated  him 
on  having  settled  his  annuity  business  with  Mr.  Cole- 
man, and  observed,  that  he  might  now  pass  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life,  with  tranquility  and  comfort.  '*  I 
was  miserable  before,  and  now  I  am  far  from  being 
happy,"  was  his  remarkable  answer. 

A  few  months  after  he  had  sold  his  patent,  being 
one  night  affected  with  a  paralytic  stroke,  whilst  on 
fthe  stage,  he  was  compelled  to  retire ;  from  whicli, 
i  however,  he  recovered  sufficiently  to  spend  the  sum- 
I  mer  at  Brigthelmstone.      A   few  weeks   before   his 
death,  he  returned  to  London  ;   but,  by  the  advice  of 
his  physicians,  set  cut  with  an  intention  to  spend  the 
winter  at  Paris,  and  in  the  South  of  France.       He 
had  got  no  farther  than  Dover,  when  he  was  sudden- 
ly attacked  with  another  stroke  of  the  palsy,   which, 
in  a  few  hours,  put  a  period  to  his  life.       He  died, 
21st,  October  1777,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  his  age, 
and  was  privately  interred   in  the  cloisters    of  West- 
minster abbey, 

?'We  think,  that  the  following  words  might,  with 
great  propriety,  have  been  engraved  on  his  tomb, 
*'  Those,  who,  in  confidence  of  superior  capacities 
or  attainments,  affect  to  despise  the  common  rules 
of  life,  should  remember,  that  nothing  can  attone 
for  the  want  of  prudence,  that  negligence  and  irre- 
gularity long  continued,  render  wit  absurd,  genius 
useless,  and  talents  contemptible." 

FORDYCE,  (David)  an  elegant  and  learned 
writer  of  the  last  century,  was  professor  of  philosophy 
in  the  Alarischal  college,  Aberdeen.  He  was  ori- 
ginally designed  for  the  ministry,  to  prepare  himself 
for  which  was  the  whole  aim  of  his  ambition  ;  and, 
for  a  course  of  years,  the  sole  purpose  of  his  studies. 
How  well  he  was  qualified  to  assume  that  office,  ap- 


2QS  KEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

pears  from  his  "  Thcodorus,   A    Dialogue  concern*] 
ing  the  art  of  Preaching."     After  having  finished  this ' 
work,  he  went  abroad  on  his  travels,  in  order  to  obtarn 
fresh  stores  of  knowledge  ;  but  after  a  successful  tour 
thro*  several  parts  of  Europe,  he  was  unfortunately 
cast  away  in  a  storm,  on  the  coast  of  Holland.    Besides 
the  above  work,  he  wrote  "  Dialogues  on  Education" 
8vo.  and  an  excellent   *'  Treatise  of  Moral  Philos( 
phy,"  which  was  published  in  the  "  Preceptor.'*  Th( 
third  edition  of  his  "Theodorus"  was  published  in] 
London,  after  his  untimely  death,  by  his  brother,  thw 
Rev.  Mr,  James  Fordyce,  an  eminent  dissenting  mi- 
nister, in  1755. 


FORDYCE,^  (Sir  William)  one  of  the  mo! 
eminent  physicians  in  London,  in  the  18th  century, 
and  a  very  benevolent  man,  was  originally  an  apother 
cary  in  Huntingdonshire,  then  mate,  and  afterward! 
surgeon  to  one  of  the  regiments  of  guards. 

By  the  force  of  superior  talents,  incessant  applica- 
tion, and   his  great  skill  in  chemistry,  he  gradually 
quitted  the  low  grounds  of  physic,  and,  by  his  great 
merit,  at  last,  ascendeed,  the   mountain  top.      Sue] ' 
was  the  opinion  of  his  medical  acumen,  that  a  cer«( 
tain  nobleman  of  high  rank,  would  not  build  on  hij 
Llampshire  estate,  till  he  had  by  earnest  entreaty,  ac-' 
companied  with  the  title  deeds  of  an  estate,  prevailed^ 
on  the  physician  to  become  his  near  neighbour.     Bat 
uninterrupted  rest  is  not  one  of  the  comforts  of  medii 
cal  fame,  and   he   was  frequently  called,  by  profes- 
sional engagements,  to    a  considerable  distance  froi 
the  seat  of  his  noble  friend. 

The  son  of  Lord  Eardley  was  dangerously  ill   oi 
the  continent.     Not  satisfied  with  the  mildness  of  ai 
Italian  sky,  the  delightful  bay,  and  medicated  ices  of 
Naples,  his  lordship  prevailed  on  Sir  Williara  to  visit 
Mr.  Eardley,  who  soon  recovered,  andjthe  grateful  pa« 
rent,  well  knowing  the  value  of  health,  and  better  a- 


I 


DICTIONARY.  S&l 

hie  than,  mostjpeople,  to  reward  the  man,  who  had  beer^ 
instrumental  in  procuring  it,  welcomed  Sir  William's 
return  with  a  draft  on  his  banker  for  2000  guineas. 

It  has  been  objected  to  Dr.  Garth,  who  was  seldom 
well  himself,  that  a  man,  unable  to  keep  his  own 
machine  in  order,  was  but  ill  qualified  to  superin- 
tend the  repairing  of  others  j  but  the  charge  against 
Dr.  Garth,  originated  more  from  his   indiscriminate 
amours  than  any  want  of  necessary  knowledge.     If 
the  skill  of  Sir  William  is  to  be  weighed  in  such  a 
;  balance,  the  estimate  will  be  highly  favourable  ;  for^, 
twith  a  frame  naturally  delicate,.heexhbited  till  within 
a  very  short  period  of  his  death,  unimpaired  healthy 
and  unclouded  faculties,  at  the  age  of  seventy.   From 
habit  as  well  as  inclination,  his  diet  was  frugal,  and, 
as  far  as  was  consistent  with  the  London  etiquette  of 
a  carriage,  he  took  every  opportunity  of  walking  and 
jiiding  on  horseback. 

!  He  published  an  Essay  on  the  Venerea]  Disease^ 
w^hich  was  generally  considered  by  medical  men,  as 
•  a  well  written  and  well-timed  publication^  as  it  ap- 
peared at  a  period,  when  the  public  were  in  danger 
of  being  led  astray  by  the  interested  misrepresenta- 
tions of  impostors  and  quacks,  who,  with  the  experi- 
ence of  more  than  a  century,  staring  them  in  the  face^ 
impudently  pretended  they  could  cure  the  wounds  of 
this  scourge  of  illicit  embraces^  without  making  use 
of  its  only  specific  remedy.  If  the  book  has  a  fault, 
it  is  a  little  tendency  to  tumid  and  heroic  language  ;  the 
author  occasionally  wandering  out  of  his  road,  and 
prating  of  the  warriors  of  Agincourt  and  Cressy,  when 
the  reader  is  looking  for  scientific  instruction  and 
practical  utility. 

The  biographical  sketches  of  this  eminent  person^, 
iwhich  have  come  to  our  hands,  are  exceedingly  scan- 
ty. From  all  the  accounts,  however,  which  we  have 
seen  and  also  from  what  we  have  heard  concerning 
him,  he  was  one  of  those  persons,  who  by  dint  of  ge- 
aius,  irreproachable  manners,  and  unwearied  attentiori 


368  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


to  the  duties  of  his  profession,  raised  himself  from  a 
humble  station,  to  the  very  top  of  his  profession.    Very 
deservedly  possessing  the    highest    reputation   as   a 
physician,  his  practice  was  for  nlany  years  supposed^ 
to  be  fully  as  respectable  as  that   of  any  of  his    bre- 
thren in  London,  in  consequence  of  which  he  acquired 
a  handsome  independence.       He  was  also  a  man  of 
the  most  extensive  benevolence,  and  has  left  his  res 
pectable  name  unsullied  by  any  known  vice,  or  un 
gentlemanly  action.     Pie  died,  Dec.  4th,  1792. 


FOSTER, (Samuel) an  English  mathematician,  an( 
astronomical  professor  of  Gresham  college,  was  bora 
in  Northamptonshire,  England,  and  sent  to  EmanueP 
college,  Cambridge,  in   1616.       He  applied  early  toa 
the  mathematics  and  attained  to  great  proficiency  iai 
that  kind  of  knowledge,  of  which  he  gave   the  first' 
specimen  in  1624.      He  had  an  elder  brother  at  thei 
same  college  with  himself,  who  prevented  him  in  a^ 
fellowship;   however,  to  make  amends  fof  this,  he. 
offered  himself  a  candidate   for  the  professorship  ofj 
astronomy  in  Gresham  college,  in  February,  1636,^ 
and  was  elected.      Fie  quitted  it  again,  Nov.  25th,j 
the  same  year,  and   was  succeeded  therein  by    Mr^'i 
Mungo  Murray,  professor  of  philosophy,  at  St.  An-.j; 
drews,  in  Scotland.     Murray  marrying  in  1641,  his 
professorship  was  thereby  vacated  ;  and  as  Foster  be-  J 
fore  had  rriade  way  tor  him,  so  he,  at  present,  made^ 
way  for  Foster,  w^ho  was  re-elected.   May  22d,  the  ^j 
same  year.  $ 

The  civil  war  breaking  out  soon  after,  Mr.  Foster  j) 
became  one  of  that  learned  association,  which  met 
for  cultivating  the  new  philosophy,  and  which  Charles 
II.  afterwards  established  into  the  Royal  Society.  In 
1646,  Dr.  Wallis,  another  member  of  that  society,  r©*'i 
ceived  from  Foster  a  mathematical  theorem,  which 
he  afterwards  published  in  his  "  Mechanics."  Mr. 
Foster,  however,  not  only  excelled  in  this  branch  of 


BICTIONART.  j^QB 

Science,  but  was,  likewise,  well  versed  in  the  an* 
cient  languages.  He  made  several  curious  observa- 
tions upon  eclipses  both  of  the  sun  and  moon,  and 
was  particularly  famous  for  inventing,  as  well  as  im- 
proving astronomical  and  other  mathematical  instru- 
ments. He  was  on  the  whole,  a  man  much  celebra* 
ted  in  his  day,  and  left  a  number  of  mathematical 
and  astronomical  treatises  too  many  to  particularize  ; 
which,  however,  are  still  esteemed  very  valuable.  He 
died  in  1652. 

FOSTER,  (Reverend  Benjamin)  late  Pastor  of 

the  first  Baptist  Church,  in  the  city  of  New- York, 
was  descended  of  respectable  parents  of  the  Con- 
gregational or  Independent  Church,  and  born  at 
Danvers,  in  the  county  of  Essex,  Massachusetts, 
June  12,  1750. 

Agreeably  to  the  custom  of  his  native  State,  he 
received  the  early  part  of  his  education  at  the  town 
school*;  and  as  he  evinced,  from  his  tender  years, 
a  remarkably  devout  and  pioq^  disposition,  his  pa- 
r«nts  devoted  his  whole  time  to  academical  pursuits, 
in  that  seminary,  in  order  to  fit  him  for  the  univer- 
sity, where  they  intended  to  fix  him,  as  soon  as  his 
age  would  admit  of  his  removal  from  under  their 
immediate  care.  At  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  w^as 
placed  at  Yale  College,  in  the  State  of  Connecticut, 
It  that  time  under  the  direction  of  the  learned  and 
oious  President  Dagget,  where  he  soon  distinguished 
limself  no  less,  by  his  religious  and  exemplary  life, 
ban  by  his  success  and  assiduity  in  classical  literii- 
:ure. 

About  this  time,  several  tracts,  relative  to  the  pre- 

*  By  the  laws  of  Maffachurettj,  every  townfhip  confifling  of  fifty 
loufc -holders  or  upward:?,  muft  provide  itfelf  with  one  or  more  propef 
cachers  of  reading,  writing  and  arithmetic;  and,  if  the  town  have 
wo  hundred  tamilics,  thtre  muft,  likevfife,  be  a  teacher  ^cf  the 
jffek  and  Latin  languages. 

Vol.  II.  No.  15.         A  3 


S7t)  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

per  subjects  of  baptism,  and  also  to  the  scriptural 
mode  of  administering  that  divine  ordinance,  having 
made  their  appearance,  the  matter  was  considerably 
agitated  in  College,  and  fixed  on  as  a  proper  subject 
for  discussion,  when  Mr.  Foster  was  appointed  to 
defend  infant  baptism  by  sprinkling.  To  prepare 
himself  for  this  disputation,  he  applied  with  the  ut- 
most assiduity  and  ardour.  He  endeavoured  to  view 
the  question  in  every  light,  in  which  it  could  possi- 
bly be  placed,  he  examined  the  sacred  records  with 
attention,  and  searched  into  the  practice  of  the  pri- 
-eiitive  church.  The  result,  however,  was  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  was  expected  ;  for,  when  the  day 
appointed  arrived,  he  was  so  far  from  being  con-t 
Srmcd  in  the  opinion,  which  he  meant  to  defendl 
that  he  declared  himself  convinced,  that  the  cause' 
which  he  had  formerly  espoused  was  wrong,  and,  to 
the  astonislimentof  the  college  officers,  avowed  him- 
self a  convert  to  the  doctrine  of  adult  baptism  by  im- 
mersion, of  which  he  ever  after  continued  a  steady, 
zealous  and  powerful  advocate.  jil 

His  conversion  arid  new  birth,  a  doctrine  whicn" 
"he  ever  held  as  scriptural  and  essential  to  the  salva- 
tion of  souls,  commenced  at  an  early  period  of  his 
life  :  but  his  christian  experience  and  trials  were 
long  and  severe,  so  that  he  had  nearly  arrived  al 
manhood,  before  he  obtained  that  comfortable  sharf 
of  divine  consolation,  which  the  vain  world  can  ncH 
-ther  give  nor  take  away.  Whilst  a  youth,  his  temp- 
tations to  blaspheme  were  often  so  strong,  that  as  fy 
related  to  some  pious  friends,  he  has '  laid  fast  hold; 
of  his  lips  to  prevent  himself  from  sinning  against! 
his  Creator 

He  graduated  about  the  year  1772,  soon  aftei 
which  he  took  up  the  cross  of  his  master  Jesus,  madt 
a  public  profession  of  his  faith,  was  baptized  b) 
immersion  and  joined  the  church,  in  Boston, 
which  the  Reverend  Dr.  Samuel  Stiilman  Vv^as  pastor 
Under  the  fostering  care  of  that  gentleman,  he  ap 


BICTIONARY.  '37h 

plied  himself  to  the  study  of  divinity  and  took 
upon  himself  the  charge  of  the  Baptist  Church,  i!> 
Leicester,  Massachusetts,  over  which  he  v\as  the 
same  year,  regularly  ordained  as  pabtor.  During  his> 
residence  in  that  place,  he  published  a  tract,  entitled 
*'  The  Washingof  Regeneration,  or  the  Divine  Right 
of  Immersion,"  in  answer  to  a  treatise  on  the  sub- 
ject  of  baptism,  written  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Fish'. 
And  soon  after  he  published  his  "  Primitive  Baptism 
defended  in  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  John  Cleve- 
land." in  both  of  which,  he  discovered  considerable 
erudition,  great  depth  of  argument  and  much  Christ 
tian  charity.  After  having  continued  at  Leices- 
ter for  several  years,  his  connection  with  that  church 
was  dissolved  and  he  preached,  for  a  short  time,  in  his 
native  town  of  Danvers  ;  but  as  neither  Danvers  nor 
Leicester  afforded  him  the  use  of  such  books,  as  were 
necessary  for  a  person  of  his  studious  turn,  he  accept- 
ed of  an  invitation  to  take  upon  him  the  pastoral  care 
of  a  church  in  Newport,  Rhode-Island,  where  he  soon 
had  the  satisfaction  to  find,  that  his  sphere  of  useful- 
ness was  considerably  enlarged  and  his  means  of  study- 
greatly  improved. 

.  On  an  invitation  from  the  First  Baptist  Church  in 
New- York,  he  paid  them  a  visit  in  1788,  and  after, 
having  preached  there  for  a  short  time,  received  an 
unanimous  call  to  settle  amongst  them  as  their  pastor. 
Upon  his  return  to  Newport,  he  consulted  with  his 
church,  who,  though  highly  pleased  with  the  eminent 
services  of  their  learned  and  faithful  teacher,  were 
unwilling  to  throw  any  obstacle  in-  the  way,  which 
migiit  impede  his  removal  to  a  place,  where  his  minis- 
terial labours  might  be  still  more  extensively  usefuJ. 
'Te  therefore  accepted  the  call  at  New-York,  and  hav- 
.g  taken  upon  him  the  pastoral  charge  of  that  church, 
in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  continued  in  that 
station  till  the  time  of  his  death. 

In  September,  1792,  the  degree  of  D.  D.  was  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  the  College  of  Rhode-Island,,  m^ 


Sl2  SEW    EI0RA?HICA3i 

consequence  of  a  learned  publication  of  his,  entitled^, 
**A  Dissertation  on  the  seventy  Weeks  of  Daniel,  tbfr 
particular  and   exact  Fulfillment  of  which  Prophecy' 
is  considered  and  proved.*'     From  the  time  Dr.  Fos- 
ter set  o  t  as  a  gospel  minister,  he  w^as.  jjniformly  assi- . 
duous  in  the  discharge  of  all  the  duties  of  his  office  *y 
nor  did  his  zeal  in  the  service  of  his  master  abate,  as, 
he  advanced  in  life  ;  for  during  his  last  twelve  or  four»| 
teen  years,  it  was  his  constant  pra'.  tice  to  preach  front 
four  to  six  sermons  every  week.     But  the   yellow   fe- 
ver, which  committed  so  great  havoc  in  New-York^ 
during  the  a  )tumn  of  1798,  put  a  period  to  the  use-i 
fulness  of  this  worthy  man.      This  dreadful   maladjr^ 
bad  begun  to  prevail  and  several  of  his  friends  sunk, 
under  its  malignity.     In  their  last  illness,  Dr.  Foster 
was  frequent  in  his  vists,  when  he  prayed  with  themj 
and  administered  the  soothing  consolations  of  reli^rirrrj 
Were  we  to  say,,  that  in  the  discharge  of  this  office^- 
he  fell  a  victim  to  his  humanity,  the  expression  might 
indicate  our  belief  in.  the  contagious  nature  of  the  dis- 
temptr,  a  doctrine,  concerning  Vvhich,  in  a  publica* 
tion  of  this  kind,  we  have  no  occasion  to  express  our 
opinion.     We  shall,   therefore,  only  observe,  that  aa 
he  was  one  of  those,  whom  no  appearance  of  danger- 
could  intimidate  from  persevering  in  what  he  copsi- 
dered  to  be  the  path  of  duty,  he  was  not  anw'lling  ta 
visit  thoseseats  of  affiiction,  from  which,  at  that  time, 
many  of  the  best  of  men   shrunk  back  with  terror. 
He  vt'as,  however,, seized  with  the  disorder,  and  aft^p 
an  illness  of  a  very  few  days,  expired,  26th  August 
1798,  to  the  great  and  almost  irreparable  loss  of  his. 
churchy   beiiig  aged   49    years    2   months,    and   14 
days. 

Dr.  Foster  as  a  scholar,  particularly  in  the  Greek,, 
Hel  rew  and  Chaldean  languages,  has  left  few  su- 
periors. As  a  divine,  he  was  strictly  Calvinistic,  and 
full  on  the  the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  free  grace  ; 
and  as  a  preacherj  he  was  indefatigable.  In  private 
life^  he  was  innocent  as  a  child,  and  harmless  as  ^ 


0fCTioNALr,  37S: 

dove,  fulfilling  all  the  duties  of  life  with  the  greatest 
exactitude  and  punctuality.  The  following  inscrip- 
tion on  a  handsome  marble  over  his  grave,  in  the  Bap- 
tist burying  ground,  New-York,  written  by  an  emi- 
nent Presbyterian  clergyman  of  that  city^  is  an  enco- 
mium justly  due  to  his  memory  ;  "  As  a  scholar  and 
divine  he  excelled  ;  as  a  preacher  he  was  eminent ;  as 
a  christian,  he  shone  conspicuously.  In  his  piety  he 
was  fervent.  The  church  was  comforted  by  his  life  ;. 
and  it  now  laments  his  death." 

Dr.  Foster  was  twice  married,  and  in  both  instan- 
ces was  blest  with  a  pious  and  excellent  companion. 
His  first  wife,  who  was  Elizabeth,  Daughter  ot  the 
Reverend  Dr.  Thomas  Green,  Leicester,  died  !9th 
August,  1793  ;  and  his  second  was  Martha,  daugh- 
ter of  Mr.  James  Bingham,  New-York,  whom  he 
survived  but  a  very  short  time,  as  she  died  27th  Ju]y„ 
1798. 

FOTHERGILL,  (Dr.  John),  an  eminent  English 
Phvsician  was  born  at  Carr-End  in  Yorkshire,  the  8tU 
March,  1712.  His  father  was  a  member  of  that  religi- 
ous society  commonly  called  QuaKers,  and  his  mother 
was  the  daughter  of  Thomas  Hough,  a  man  of  consi- 
derable fortune  near  Frodsham,  in  Cheshire,  where  he 
was  placed  at  school,  and  where  he  remained  till  he 
had  attained  to  the  twelfth  year  of  his  age.  After  this 
he  was  removed  to  a  private  school,  at  Sedberg,  in 
Yorkshire,  where,  according  to  every  appearance,  he 
made  a  rapid  progress  in  his  education — He  after- 
wards served  his  time  to  one  Mr.  Bartlet,  an  eminent 
apothecary  at  Bradford,  a  m.an,  whose  good  character 
and  exemplary  life  gained  him  universal  esteem  ;  and, 
who,  by  his  abilities,  had  rendered  his  house  a  semina- 
ry, where  many  distinguished  physicians  received  the 
£rst  rudiments  of  the  medical  art. 

When   his  apprenticeship    had  expired,    young 
Fothergill  re.moved  to  Edinburgh,  to  study  physic,  in 


S71  NEW    MOGRAPH^CAI, 

the  university  of  that  place,  prior  to  his  establishing;: 
himself  in  the  country  as  an  apothecary,  for  which  he 
was  originally  intended. 

Edinburgh,  at  this  period,  could  boast  of  a  Monro>. 
an  Alston,  a  Rutherford,  a  Sinclair,  and  a  Plummer, 
;all  of  whom  were  men  of  eminent  abilities,  who  had 
issued  from  the  Boerhaavian  school.  The  first  of  these 
so  justly  celebrated  for  his  knowledge  of  anatomy, 
soon  distinguished  young  Fothergill  among  his  pupils ; 
and  as  he  thought,  he  observed  in  him  such  powers 
of  mind  as  seemed  to  afford  great  hopes  of  their  fu- 
ture progress,  when  brought  to  maturity,  he  advised 
him  to  enlarge  the  cultivation  of  them,  by  a  longer 
residence  at  the  university  than  he  had  at  first  propos- 
ed. Modesty  and  difHdence,  are  usually  the  attend- 
ants of  ^reat  talents  and  strength  of  mind;  and  it  is 
very  often  owing  to  lucky  circumstances,  or  the  en- 
couragement of  friends,  that  those,  who  possess  them, 
are  ever  put  in  a  way  to  emerge  from  obscurity. — 
This,  in  some  measure,  appears  to  have  been  the  case 
with  young  Fothergill,  who,  at  this  time,  as  we  have 
every  reason  to  believe,  entertained  such  an  opinion 
of  his  own  abilities,  as  perfectly  reconciled  his  mind 
w^ith  the  thoughts  of  moving  in  a  very  humble  sphere. 
To  the  discernment,  therefore,  of  this  illustrious  pro- 
fessor may  it  be  attributed,  that  his  pupil  turned  his 
thoughts  towards  higher  objects;  and,  indeed,  his 
application  and  ardent  desire  for  instruction  tended 
greatly  to  confirm  the  professor's  sagacity  :  for  as  he 
advanced  in  knowledge,  he  still  found  new  incite- 
ments to  make  a  farther  progress. 

It  too  often  happens,  that  ingenious  youths,  hurried 
on  by  the  strength  of  passion,  and  the  ardour  of  ima- 
gination, fall  into  destructive  irregularities,  which 
neither  length  of  time,  nor  the  voice  of  maturer  reason 
are  ever  able  thoroughly  to  correct.  In  the  present 
subject  of  biography,  however,  we  should  in  vain 
search  for  the  reason  of  youthful  indulgence  ;  and, 
we  may^  in  some  measure,  judge  of  his  sentiments 


IpICTIOHARY.  ^75 

and  character,  even  at  this  early  period  of  his  life,  by 
the  following  anecdote.  Besides  his  other  useful  en- 
gagements at  Edinburgh,  Mr.  Fothergill  kept  a  diary, 
in  classical  Latin,  of  all  his  actions,  and  of  such  occur- 
rences as  occasionally  happened  to  him.  Having 
one  day  requested  a  friend  to  accompany  him  in  a 
visit  to  one  of  the  professors,  with  whom  he  was  in- 
timately acquainted,  they  breakfasted  with  him  and 
were  received  in  a  very  polite  manner.  As  they  had 
gone  to  heary  they  left  the  choice  of  the  con/ersatlon 
to  the  Professor,  who,  being  in  good  spirits,  was 
cheerful  and  talkative,  but  the  principal  part  of  his 
discourse  consisted  of  some  lively  and,  what  most 
people  would  have  deemed,  entertaining  adventure^, 
which  had  beftillen  him  in  his  younger  days,  whilst  a 
student  at  Leyden,  Paris  and  London.  The  gentle- 
man, who  accompanied  Mr.  Fothergill,  having  after- 
wards an  opportunity  of  seeing  his  diary  found  in  it, 
an  account  of  the  professor's  conversation  related  in 
the  following  laconic  manner,  multa  dixil^ ;  non  miilta 
dldlclmus.     He  spoke  much  ;  but  we  learned  little. 

In  the  year  1736,  Mr.  Fothergill  took  his  degree  at 
Edinburgh,  and  published  his  Thesis,  the  subject  of 
which  vi^as  Dc  Emeticorum  usu.  Soon  after  this  he 
went  to  London,  and  attended  the  practice  of  St. 
Thomas's  hospital.  Here  he  was  at  once  furnished 
with  abundant  opportunities  of  examining  the  doc- 
trines of  the  schools,  and  of  comparing  them  with  a 
series  of  facts,  drawn  from  practice  and  dissection; 
and  it  is  related  by  some  of  hiscotemporaries,  that  his 
application  was  unremitting,  and  that  his  remarks 
upon  cases  were  often  listened  to  with  great  attention 
even  by  his  seniors.  Diligence  and  application  were 
not,  however,  the  only  things  by  which  he  distinguish- 
ed himself  while  in  this  situation  :  his  humanity  and 
attention  to  the  poor  were  equally  conspicuous  ;  and 
it  is  certain,  that  those  indigent  people,  who  sought 
relief  from  him,  were  loud  in  proclaiming  the  success 
of  his  prescriptions,  and  gradually  assisted  to  raise  him 


St6  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

to  more  extensive  and  pfofiKafble  •employment.    1>p. 
Fothergill  has  often  mentioned  to  his  friends, _  hovf. 
much  he  \v:&is  Indebted  to  this  class  of  grateful,  thougl^ 
needy  suppliants  J  and  [n  his  turn  he  acknowledged 
the  obligation ;  for  lie  humanejy   continued  to  give 
advice  gratis  to  the  poor,  during  the  rest  of  his  life>^J 
when  their  suffrages  could  no  longer  tend  either  to 
enlarge  his  pratke,  or  to  elevate  his  reputation.     We 
must  confess,  therefore,  that  this  persevering  benevo*?" 
lence  could  proceed  only  from  the  innate  goodness 
of  his  heart. 

About  this  time,  before  he  could  have  been  estab- 
lished in  very  extensive  practice,  he  went  to  Leyden, 
whence,  after  a  short  stay,  he  travelled  through  some 
parts  of  France  and  Germany,  and  returning  to  Eng- 
land, began  his  practice  in  London,  in  the  year  1740^ 
for  though  he  had  taken  his  doctor's  degree,  in  1736, 
the  intermediate  time  was  chiefly  employed  in  attend- 
ing the  hospitals  and  laying  that  foundation,  upon 
which  he  afterwards  raised  so  distinguished  a  super- 
structure. His  Thesis,  with  all  its  merit,  as  it  did  not 
much  attract  the  public  attention,  could  not  have  con- 
tributed greatly  to  extend  his  reputation.  The  same 
may  be  said  respecting  his  remarks  on  the  neutral 
salts  of  plants,  and  on  his  *"  Terra  Foliata  Tartari," 
published  the  same  year  in  the  Edinburgh  Medical 
Essays,  as  subjects  merely  confined  to  medical  disqui- 
sition. 

In  1744,  his  essay  on  the  ^^  Manna  Persicum,*' 
was  inserted  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions,  and 
in  1745,  his  letter  to  Dr.  Mead  and  his  observations 
on  a  case  of  recovering  a  man  dead  in  apperance.  In 
the  year  following  he  was  admitted  a  licentiate  of  the 
^lloyal  College  of  Physicians. 

The  preceding  publications  were  more  solid  than 
brilliant.  They  were  calculated  rather  to  insure  fu* 
turejeputation  than  present  emolument,  and  will  be 
read  now  with  as  much  pleasure  as  when  first  pub- 
lished.    What  he  endeavored  to  prave^  to  illustrate 


DICTIONARY.  ^77 

and  enforce,  respecting  the  recovery  of  persons  appa- 
rently dead  by  drowning,  has  been  since  attempted  in 
most  of  the  maritime  states  of  Europe  and  in  the  Uni- 
ted States,  and  he  enjoyed  the  happiness  of  Jiving 
to  see  those  rules  adopted  with  success,  which,  up- 
wards of  thirty  years  before,  he  had  recommended  by 
his  pen.  To  whatever  merit,  these  observations  might 
have  been  entitled,  the' subjects,  at  that  time,  excited 
no  popular  attention,  though  since  prosecuted  with  a 
zeal,  which  does  honour  to  humanity.  It  could  not, 
therefore,  have  contributed  in  any  degree  to  elevate 
his  character  ;  yet,  at  this  period,  he  had  acquired 
very  considerable  employment  in  his  profession,  and 
his  emoluments  were  greater  than  what  many  physi- 
cians of  longer  duration  could  boast  of. 

Highly  flattering  as  this  success  must  have  been,  so 
early  in   life,  it  bore    very  little   proportion    to   that, 
which  succeeded  his  "  Account  of  the  Sore  Throat 
i  attended  with  Ulcers,"  published  in  1748,  and  smce 
deservedly  translated  into  almost  every  language  of 
!  Europe.  Not  long  before  the  appearance  of  this  work, 
the  disease  of  which  he  treated,  had,  in  its  generai 
.havoc  in  London,  indiscriminately  swept  away  the 
: rising  hopes  of  some  of  the  most  respectable  families, 
and  hence  excited  a  very  general  alarm.     The  dis- 
covery, therefore,  of  a  new  and  successful  method  of 
treating  so   formidable  and  fatal  a  disease  was  fortu- 
nate for  the  public  as  well  as  for  the  author.  Medical 
essays,  on  improvements  in  the  healing  art,  are  fre- 
quently offered  to  the  public,  in  a  state  of  imperfec- 
tion ;    but  Dr.  Fothergiirs  performance,  on  the  sore 
throat,  was  exempted  from  the  imbecility  of  a  hasty 
birth,  and  the  revolution  it  produced  in  the  treatment 
of  that  disease,  has  obtained  the  sanction  of  the  ablest 
physicians  to  the  present  time  ;  and,  with  less  devia- 
tion, perhaps,  than  has  ever  attended  the  management 
3f  any  other  acute  disorder.     As  the  alarm  amongst 
"^rsons  of  fashion  long  subsided.  Dr.  Fothergiirs  re- 
lation rapidly  increased  ;  for,  whenever  a  physician 
Vol,  II.  No,  15.        B3 


S78  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

astonishes  the  public  with  new  discoveries  upon  any 
popular  disease,  the  reputation  of  sagacity  in  every 
other  will  generally  be  bestowed  upon  him.  The 
doctor  was,  therefore,  now  introduced  into  the  first 
families  in  London,  and  was  seldom  employed,  but 
his  success  made  him  be  again  soua^ht  for. 

As  a  rational  means  of  unbending  his  mind,  and 
•with  a  view,  at  the  same  time,  to  promote  the  advance- 
ment of  the  healing  art,  Dr.  Fothergill  turned  hi^ 
thoughts  towards  botany,  of  which  he  became  a  dis- 
tinguished patron.    In  1762,  he,  therefore,  purchased 
an  estate  at  Upton   in  Essex,  and  formed  a  botanic 
garden,  the  walls  of  which  enclosed  about  five  acres 
of  ground.  A  winding  canal  in  the  form  of  a  crescent 
nearly  separated  it  into  two  divisions,  and  opened  oc- 
casionally  on  the  sight  through  the  branches  of  rare 
and  exotic  shrubs  that  lined  the  walks  on  its  banks. 
In  the  middle  of  winter,  when  the  earth  was  covered 
with  snow,  evergreens  were  here  clothed  in  full  ver- 
dure j  a  glass  door  from  the  mansion  house  gave  en- 
trance, without  being  exposed  to  the  air,  into  a  suite 
of  hot  and  green-house  apartments  of  nearly  260  feet 
extent  containing  upwards  of  3,400  distinct  species  ol 
exotics,  the  foliage  of  which  seemed   to  be  enlivenedl 
by  a  perpetual  spring,  and  in  the  open  ground  with! 
the  returning  summer,   about  3,000  species  of  plantil 
and  shrubs^  vied  in  Verdure  and  beauty  with  the  mor^ 
tender  natives  of  Africa  and  America.     On  the  im«i 
provement  of  his  garden  he  spared  no  expences,  as  hf 
kept  fifteen  men  constantly  employed   in  taking  can 
of  it,  and  had  an  ingenious  botanist,  qualified  to  col 
lect  for  him  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  anothe: 
on  the  Alps.     To  this  garden,  the  worthy  and  inge 
nious  proprietor  oftimes  retired   for  a  few  hours,  t( 
contemplate  the  vegetable  productions  of  the  fou 
quarters  of  the  globe  inclosed  in  his  domain ;  and  her< 
one  might  have  justly  said,  that  the  sphere  seemec 
transported,  and   that  the  Arctic  circle  joined  to  th 
Equator* 


DICTIONARY.  219 

But  whatever  were  the  objects  of  Dr.  Fothergiirs 
attcRtion,  such  was  his  benevolence  and  love  of  man- 
kind, that  he  ever  wished  tQ  convert  them  to  some 
valuable  use.  What  exertions  he  made  and  what  he 
contributed  to  spread  the  useful  productions  of  the 
globe,  and  to  promote  the  cultivation  of  them  in  climes, 
where  they  were  never  before  known,  would  fill  a 
whole  volume,  were  it  necessary  to  enlarge  upon 
them.  From  America,  he  received  a  variety  of  valua- 
ble trees  and  shrubs,  which  became  denizens  of  his 
domain,  some  of  them  capable  of  being  applied  to  the 
most  useful  purposes  of  timber ;  and  in  return  he 
transported  green  and  bohea  trees  from  his  garden  to 
the  southern  part  of  that  great  continent.  He  en- 
deavoured also  to  improve  the  growth  and  quality  of 
ccftee  in  the  West  India  Islands,  and  used  many  en- 
deavours  to  introduce  plants  of  the  true  cinnamon  into 
the  British  West  India  colonies.  But  intent  as  he 
was  to  promote  so  many  articles  of  commerce,  manu- 
facture and  convenience,  he  never  lost  sight  of  those 
departments  of  natural  history,  which  were  more  im- 
mediately connected  with  medicine.  He,  accordingly, 
studied  almost  every  department  of  that  extensive 
science,  and  became  possessed  of  one  of  the  most 
valuable  colleciions  of  its  rarest  objects  as  was  to  be 
found  in  the  British  dominions. 

In  the  year  1765,  he  began  regularly  to  withdraw 
during  the  summer  months  from  the  excessive  fatigue 
of  his  profession  to  Lee  Hall,  a  secluded  spot  in 
Cheshire,  which,  though  he  rented  only  by  the  year, 
he  spared  no  expence  to  improve.  He  took  no  fees 
during  this  recess,  but  prescribed  gratis  without  the 
least  hesitation.  During  his  retirement  here,  he, 
likewise,  arranged  his  medical  observations,  for  which 
his  memory  will  be  respected,  and  thence  he  main- 
tained a  correspondence  with  most  parts  of  the  civiliz- 
ed world.  It  would  be  difficult  to  trace  Dr.  Fother- 
giiTs  pen,  through  all  the  variaus  and  useful  subjects 
on  which  it  was  employed,  daring  the  few  months. 


3&0  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

that  he  retired  every  year  to  Cheshire  ;  but  he  seldom 
or  perhaps- never  wrote  but  for  private  amusement  or 
fpr  public  instruction. 

.  V/ith  the  United  States,  his  correspondence  was 
very  extensive.  His  father  had  thrice  traversed  that 
country  in  the  service  of  religion,  and  his  brother 
Samuel  had  followed  his  pious  example.  He  was, 
likewise,  visited  by  the  best  informed  Americans,^ 
"who  happened  to  cross  the  Atlantic.  By  such  op- 
portunities, he  acquired  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  disposition  or  the  inhabitants,  and  the  qualities  of 
the  soil,  which  enabled  him  to  suggest  various  im- 
provements in  gardening,  rural  economy,  agriculture 
and  commerce.  He  also  laboured  in  conjunction 
with  some  other  persons  of  humanity,  and  at  length 
successfully,  to  abolish  the  slave  trade  amongst  his 
brethren  of  the  society  of  Friends,  who  to  their  lasting 
honour  be  it  spoken,  were  the  first,  who,  as  a  public 
body,  pronounced  their  abhorrence  of  this  infamous 
and  inhuman  commerce.  No  man  valued  personal 
liberty  with  more  enthusiasm,  and  few  exerted  their 
influence  more  strenuously  than  he  to  promote  the  abo- 
lition oi  the  African  slave  trade.  But  whatever  may  be 
the  result  of  the  efforts  of  the  humane  in  other 
parts  of  the  world,  where  slavery  exists,  it  is  most  pro- 
bable, that  it  will  be  continued  in  the  West  India  isl- 
ands, under  certain  restrictions,  till  the  pecuniary  inter- 
est of  the  Europeans  can  be  diverted  to  another  chan* 
neL- To  effect  this  Dr.  Fothergill  suggested  the  (cultiva- 
tion of  the  sugar-cane  on  the  continent  of  Africa,  where 
it  seems  to  have  been  indigenous,  and  that  the  natives 
srfould  be  employed  as  servants  for  hire,  and  not  as 
slaves  compelled  to  labour  at  the  pleasure  of  <in  arbi- 
trary despot.  Various  difficulties  may,  indeed,  im- 
pede the  success  of  so  benevolent  a  scheme  ;  but,  as 
the  friends  of  humanity  are  unremitting  in  their  ex- 
ertions, tbey  have  no  reason  to  despair  of  at  last  at- 
taining the  completion  of  their  wishes. 
l)fc>  Conjunction  v/ith  the  benevolent  Mn  Howard, 


I 


CICTIONARY.  381 

Dr.  Fothergill  exerted  his  endeavours  to  prevent  those 
miseries  and  diseases,  which  are  produced  by  human 
contagion.  The  Legislature  alarmed  at- repeated  in- 
stances of  infection,  which  prisoners  disseminated  in 
courts  of  justice,  was  desirous  of  receiving  the  best 
advice  upon  the  subject ;  and  Dr.  Fothergill,  with  his 
friend  was  ordered  to  attend  the  House  of  Commons, 
before  which  they  communicated  such  information  as 
gave  rise,  in  the  year  1774,  to  a  bill  entitled,  "  Ar^ 
act  for  preserving  the  health  of  prisoners  in  goal,  and 
preventing  the  goal  distemper,"  and  also  to  a  plan  for 
building  detached  or  penitentiary  houses,  as  a  mode 
best  calculated  to  restrain  indolence  and  vice.  These 
two  distinguished  persons,  with  George  Whatley,  Esq. 
we^e  appointed  by  the  king,  commissioners  for  di- 
recting suitable  buildings,  to  carry  into  execution  this 
new  system  of  correction.  This  useful  design,  how- 
ever, Dr.  Fothergill  did  not  live  to  see  completed. 

At  the  expence  of  Dr.  Fothergill,  was  made  and 
printed,  an  entire  new  translation  of  the  whole  Bible, 
from  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  originals,  by  Anthony 
Purver,  a  quaker,  in  two  vols,  folio,  1764,  and  also  in 
1780,  an  edition  of  Bishop  Piercy's  "  Key  to  the  New 
Testament,*'  adopted  to  the  use  of  a  seminary  of  young 
quakers, at  Ack worth,  near  Leeds,  in  Yorksliire,  found- 
ed in    1778  by  the  society,  who  purchased  by  a  sub- 

:  scription,  in  which  Dr.  Fothergill  stood  foremost,  the 

,  house  and  an  estate  of  thirty  acres,  which  the  Found- 
ling Hospital  held  there,  but  which  they  found  incon- 
venient for  their  purpose,  on  account  of  distance.  The 
Doctor  himself,  first  projected  this  on  the  j)lan  of  a 
smaller  institution  of  the  same  kind  at  Gildersome. 

I  It  now  contains  about  three  hundred  children  of  both 
sexes,  furnished  with  all  the  necessaries  and  comforts 
of  life,  properly  clothed  and  educated  in  every  branch 
of  knowledge,  suitable  to  the  station,  in  which  it  is 

,  presumable  they  may  be  placed.  '    e  ' 

His  public    benefactions,    his   eiicouragemefit^  ol 
science,  the  influence  of  his  attention  to  the  health. 


'i 


382  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

the  police,  the  convenience,  8zc.  of  the  British  metro- 
polls,  &c.  would  require  volumes  to  specify.  But  not* 
withstanding  his  benevolent,  philanthropic  and  truly 
benevolent  dispvjsition  he  had  acquired,  by  the  most 
honourable  means,  a  fortune  amcunting  to  upwards 
of  350,030  dollars. 

For  a  series  of  years,  he  enjoyed  a  good  state  of 
health,  and  time  seemed  slowly  to  diminish  the  vigor 
of  his  body,  without  much  weakening  the  exertions  of 
his  mind ;  but  in  1778,  he  was  first  attacked  by  a- 
suppression  of  urine^  which,  though  frequently  reliev-f 
ed  for  a  time,  at  last  put  a  period  to  his  existence. 
Daring  his  last  illness,  when  labouring  under  the  most 
acute  pain,  he  endeavored  to  assume  a  degree  of 
cheerfulness,  which  was  natural  to  him  when  well 
and  described  his  complaints,  and  their  probable  fatal 
termination,  with  a  pious  hope  that  he  /lad  not  lived 
in  vain,  but  in  a  degree  to  answer  the  end  of  the  crecb* 
tion,  by  sacrificing  interes  fed  considerations,  and  liisoxvn 
care  to  the  good  of  his  J  cilozv-  creatures .  Some  individu- 
als might  have  envied  the  universal  esteem  he  acquir- 
ed by  his  virtues,  his  manners  and  skill  in  healing; 
but  all  may  envy  that  comfort  of  mind,  which  sus- 
tained him  till  his  final  dissolution,  which  happened 
26  December,  178C. 

Of  the  many  examples  which  might  be  adduced  of 
Dr.  Fothergill's  benevolent  liberality,  wx  shall  con- 
clude this  memoir  with  the  following,  especially  as 
such  instances,  how  ever  applauded,  are  very  uncom- 
mon in  the  present  day.  The  late  Dr.  Knight,  librari- 
an of  the  British  museum,  whose  character  was  deserv- 
edly esteemed,  by  some  speculations  in  mining,  rather 
plausible  than  productive,  became  so  involved  in  his 
circumstances,  as  to  be  obliged  to  apply  to  those, 
whom  he  deemed  his  friends,  for  pecuniary  support ; 
but  his  applications  were  received  with  coolness.  In 
this  dilemima,  he,  with  great  diffidence,  made  his  case 
known  to  the  Doctor,  and  told  him,  what  would  once 
more  render  him  a  happy  man.    The  answer  givcu 


DICTIONAllY. 


by  the  physician  of  philanthrophy,  whose  heart  never 
felt  for  the  distress  of  another,  without  wishing  to  re- 
lieve it,  was  short  but  expressive,  "  I  will  then  make 
thee  happy."  We  are  assured,  that  the  assistance 
given  upon  this  occasion  amounted  to  1000  guineas. 


FOX,  (John)  An  English  Divine  and  Church 
Historian,  was  born  in  1317,  the  very  year  that  I^u- 
ther  began  to  oppose  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  of 
Rome.  He  discovered  in  his  younger  years  a  geni- 
us for  poetry,  and  wrote  in  an  elegant  style,  several 
Latin  comedies,  the  subjects  of  which  was  taken  from 
the  scriptures.  He  afterwards  applied  himself  to  di- 
vinity, and  discovered  himself  in  favor  of  the  reforma- 
tion then  in  hand,  before  he  was  known  to  those  who 
maintained  the  cause,  or  who  were  of  ability  to  pro- 
tect the  maintainers  of  it.  Gardiner,  Bishop  of 
Winchester,  determined  to  have  him  seized,  and  laid 
many  snares  and  stratagems  for  him  ;  nevertheless  he 
at  length  escaped,  and  got  to  Basil,  in  Germany, 
where  numbers  of  English  subjects  resorted  in  those 
times  of  persecution.  He  maintained  himself  and 
family  in  this  city  by  correcting  the  press,  and  it  was 
here  that  he  laid  the  plan  of  his  famous  work,  enti- 
tled *'  The  history  of  the  Acts  and  Monuments  of 
these  bitter  and  perilous  days,  touching  matters  of 
the  church,  &;c,"  or  as  it  is  commonly  called,  "  Fox*s 
Book  of  Martyrs"  Archbishop  Whitgift  styles  Fox 
a  "  worthy  man,"  says  that  he  had  read  over  his  Acts 
and  Monuments  from  the  one  end  to  the  other,  and 
declares,  that  he  hath  very  diligently  and  faithfully 
laboured  in  this  matter,  and  searched  out  the  truth  of 
it,  as  learnedly  as  any  man  has  done.  The  Catholics, 
however,  were  in  the  mean  time  much  displeased  at 
the  publication  of  this  history,  which  they  called 
"  Fox's  Golden  Legend,'*  and  represented  as  a  huge 
collection  of  notorious  falsehoods. 

After  Queen  Elizabeth  was  settled  on  the  throne^ 


384  NEW    BlORAFHtCAE. 

and  the  Protestant  religion  well  established,  he  re- 
tarned  to  his  native  country,  where  the  queen  confer- 
red upon  him  a  prebend  of  the  church  of  Salisbury, 
though  Fox  himself  would  have  declined  accepting 
it,  and  though  he  had  several  powerful  friends,  who 
would  have  raised  him  to  considerable  preferments, 
yet  he  declined  them,  being  always  unwilling  to  sub- 
scribe the  canons  and  disliking  spme  ceremonies  of 
th  I  cl  urch.  In  1575,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  queen, 
dissuading  her  from  putting  to  death  two  Baptists 
who  had  been  condemned  to  be  burnt  for  their 
opinions;  but  though  the  queen  in  general  paid 
great  deference  to  Mr.  Fox,  yet  she  could  by  no 
means  be  prevailed  on  to  save  their  lives,  unless  they 
recanted.  This  ihey  would  not  do;  they  were,  there- 
fore, burnt  in  Smithfield  to  the  great  disgrace  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign. 

Besides  what  we  have  already  mentioned  Mr.  Fox 
wrote  a  number  of  books,  principally  levelled  against 
the  catholics,  the  titles  of  which  it  will  be  unnecessary 
for  us  to  mention.     He  died  in  i575. 

FOX,  (George)  the  founder  of  the  sect  of  Eng- 
lish Quakers  was  born  at  Fenny  Drayton,  a  village  in 
Leicestershire,  about  the  year  i625.  He  was  brought 
up  a  shoe-maker  and  for  a  long  time  followed  his 
trade  at  Nottingham.  He  was  a  man  of  a  very  serious 
disposition,  and  while  engaged  at  his  work,  was  gen- 
erally employed  in  meditating  upon  the  sacred  scrip- 
tures. He,  at  length,  in  the  year  1649,  commenced 
preacher,  and  was  the  founder  of  a  sect,  which,  in 
the  discharge  of  all  the  great  duties  of  morality,  are 
entitled  to  the  highest  commendation. 

In  giving  an  account  of  the  circumstances,  which 
led  to  the  origin  of  this  new  sect,  it  will  be  best  to  use 
their  own  words — *'  The  beginning  of  the  seventeenth 
century  is  known  to  have  been  a  time  of  great  dis- 
sention  in  England  respecting  religion.  Many  pious 
persons  had  been  dissatisfied  with  the  settlement  of 


'•'feiCTicnTAsY.''  SS5 

the  'Q}/iufch  b(  'Enfhh'd'in  the  reign  orCiueen ^Eliza- 
beth. Various  societies  of  dissenters  had  accordingly 
arisenvsomeof  whom  evinced  their  sincerity  by  griev- 
ous sufferings  under  the  intolerance  of  those,  who 
governed  church  affairs.  But  these  societies,  notwith- 
standing their  honest  zeal,  seemed  to  have  stopped 
short  in  their  progress  towards  a  complete  reformati-^ 
on| ;  and,  degenerating  into  formality,  to  have  left  their 
most  enlightened  members  to  lament  the  want  of 
something  more  instructive  and  consolatory  to  the 
soul,  than  the  most  rigorous  observance  of  their  or- 
dinances had  ever  produced.  Thus  dissatisfied  and. 
disconsolate,  they  were  ready  to  follow  any  teacher, 
who  seemed  able  to  direct  them  to  that  light  and 
peace  of  which  they  felt  in  need.  Many  such  in  suc- 
cession engaged  their  attention  ;  until  finding  the  in- 
sufficiency ot  them  all,  they  withdrew  from  the  com- 
munion of  every  visible  church,  and  dwelt  retired, 
and  attentive  to  the  inward  state  of  their  own  minds: 
often  deeply  distressed  for  the  want  of  that  true  know- 
ledge of  God,  which  they  saw  to  be  necessary  for 
salvation,  and  for  which,  according  to  their  ability, 
they  fervently  prayed.  These  sincere  breathings  of 
spirit  being  answered  by  the  extension  of  some  degree 
of  heavenly  consolation,  they  became  convinced,  that 
as  the  heart  of  man  is  the  scene  of  the  tempter's  at- 
tacks, it  must  also  be  that  of  the  redeemer's  victory. 

With  reverend  fervency,  therefore,  they  sought  his 
appearance  in  their  minds,  and  thus  being  renewedly 
furnished  with  his  saving  light  and  help,  they  not  only 
became  instructed  in  the  things  pertaining  to  their 
own  salvation,  but  they  discovered  many  practices  ia 
the  world,  which  have  a  shew  of  religion,  to  be  never- 
theless, the  unsubjected  will  of  man,  and  inconsistent 
with  the  genuine  simplicity  of  the  truth." 

Mr.  Besse,  ii,i  his  sufferings  of  the  people  called 
Quakers,  says,  "  George  Fox  was  one  of  the  first  of 

t  Penn,  Vol.  5,  Pa^e  21I,  212.,  Ed.  178X, 

Vol.  II.  No,  i5,        C3 


86  HEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


our  friends,  who  was  imprisoned.  He  was  confined 
at  Nottingham  in  the  year  1649,  for  having  publicly 
opposed  a  preacher,  who  had  asserted  that  the  more 
sure  word  of  prophecy,  mentioned  2  Pet.  1, 19,  w^as  the 
scriptures,  George  Fox  declaring,  that  it  was  the 
Holy  Spirit  ;  and  in  the  following  year,  being  brought 
before  two  justices  in  Derbyshire,  one  of  them  scof- 
fing at  George  Fox,  for  having  bidden  him  and  those 
about  him,  tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord,  gave  to 
our  predecessors  the  name  of  Quakers^  an  appellation 
which  soon  became  and  hath  remained  our  most  usual 
denomination,  but  they  themselves  adopted  and  have 
transmitted  to  us,  the  endearing  appellation  of 
Friends'' 

Mr.  Fox  proposed  but  few  articles  of  fath,  insisting 
chiefly  on  moral  virtues,  mutual  charity,  the  love  of  God 
and  a  deep  attention  to  the  inward  motions  and  secret 
operations  of  the  spirit:  he  required  a  plain,  simple 
worship  and  a  religion  without  ceremonies,  making 
it  a  principal  point  to  wait  in  profound  silence  the 
directions  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  met  with  much 
rough  treatment  for  his  zeal,  was  often  imprisoned, 
and  several  times  in  danger  of  being  knocked  on  the 
head  ;  but,  notwithstanding  all  discouragements,  his 
sect  prevailed  much,  and  many  considerable  men  were 
drawn  over  to  them  among  whom  were  the  celebrated 
Robert  Barclay  and  William  Penn. 

We  shall  conclude  our  account  of  George  Fox,  by 
observing,  that  though  it  has  too  long  been  the  custom 
of  some  to  ridicule,  what  they  call,  the  inflated  feelings, 
the  starched  affectation  and  unaccommodating  man- 
ners of  his  followers  ;  yet  their  general  purity  of 
manners,  and  universal  philanthrophy  ;  their  abhor- 
rence of  the  destructive  practice  of  war,  the  infamous 
trafi^x  of  slaves  and  religious  persecution ;  their  quiet, 
inoffensive  deportment,  and  conscientious  discharge 
of  the  duties  of  private  life,  have  not  failed  to  concili- 
ate the  good  will  of  the  sober  part  of  the  community. 
Mr,  Fox  died  in  the  year  1681. 


DICTIONARY.  387 


FRANKLIN,  (Benjamin)  the  American  states- 
man and  philosopher,  was  born  in  Boston,  Massachu- 
setts, January  17th,  1706:  His  father  Josiah,  who 
was  a  native  of  Nottinghamshire,  England,  finding 
himself  subjected  to  various  hardships,  on  account  of 
his  attachment  to  the  religious  opinions  of  the  Non- 
conformists, quitted  his  native  country  together  with 
his  wife  and  three  children,  and  about  the  year  1682, 
found  an  asylum  from  persecution  in  New-England. 
The  trade,  to  which  he  had  been  brought  up,  was  that 
of  a  dyer ;  but  finding  it  very  unprofitable  in  this 
country,  he  soon  after  his  arrival  took  up  that  of  a  tal- 
low chandler.  By  his  first  wife  he  had  seven  children  ; 
and  by  the  second  ten,  of  whom  Benjamin,  the  sub- 
ject of  this  article,  was  the  eighth 

In  the  account  which  Dr.  Franklin  gives  of  his  fa- 
ther, he  represents  him  as  a  pious,  prudent  and  inge- 
nious man,  endowed  with  a  good  mechanical  genius, 
and  capable,  on  occasion,  of  using  the  tools  of  other 
workmen  with  great  dexterity.  He  also  possessed  a 
sound  understanding  and  solid  judgment,  and  was 
universally  esteemed  by  his  neighbours  as  a  man  of 
great  probity  and  discernment.  His  mother  was  a 
virtuous  and  discreet  woman,  who  united  her  best  en- 
deavours with  her  husband,  to  improve  and  form  the 
minds  ot  their  children,  and  to  make  them  useful  and 
virtuous  members  of  society.  Such  were  the  parents, 
such  the  instructors,  to  whom  the  w&rld  was  indebt- 
ed for  this  benefactor  of  the  human  race  ;  for  from 
them,  he,  in  his  younger  years,  imbibed  those  prin- 
ciples of  moral  rectitude,  and  that  aversion  from  arbi- 
trary power,  for  which,  through  the  whole  of  a  long 
life,  he  afterwards  became  so  eminently  conspicuous. 

Young  Franklin,  having  been  early  designed  for  the 
ministry,  was,  at  the  age  of  eight  years,  sent  to  the 
grammar-school  of  Boston,  from  which,  notwithstand- 
standing  his  uncommon  progress  in  the  latin  languap-e, 
he  waij  removed  at  the  end  of  one  year^to  a  schoolfoi:- 


S88  KEW    BIORAPHICAL 


§ 


writing  and  arithmetic  ;  his  father  considering,  that, 
with  his  large  family,  he  could  ill  afford  the  expences 
of  a  liberal  education,  and  that  persons  so  educated 
were  often  but  poorly  provided  for. 

At  the  age  of  ten,    Franklin   was    taken    fronnr 
school,  and,,  for  some  time,  employed  by  his  father, 
to  assist  him  in  his  business.      The  trade  of  a  tallow- 
chandler  was,  however,  the  object  of  his  aversion  ; 
and  as  his  dislike  continued   to  encrease,  his  father 
apprehensive,  lest  he  should  run  off  to  sea,  for  to  that 
kind  of  life  he  had  evinced  a  great  predilection,  en- 
deavoured to   fix  his  inclinations  on  land,   by   taking 
him  to  the  shops  of  different  artificers.     Hence  he  ac- 
quired a  fondness  for  seeing  good  workmen  employed 
at  their  business,  and   was  enabled   to  construct   ma- 
chines for  his  experiments,  which,  it  would  have  been 
extremely  difficult  for  the  best  mechanics  to  finish 
exactly  according  to  his  vi^ishes.     I'he  trade  of  a  cut- 
ler, was  at  last  fixed  for  Franklin  i  but  some  disagree- 
jment  arising  about  a  fee,  determined  his  father  to  re- 
linquish  his  intention. 

He  had  early  discovered  a  great  fondness  for  readings 
and  regularly  expended  what  little  money  he  could 
procure,  in  the  purchase  of  books.  His  father  ob- 
serving this  propensity,  at  last  resolved  to  make  him 
a  printer,  and  he  accordingly  bound  him  as  an  ap- 
prentice to  his  brother  James,  at  the  age  of  12  years. 
He  soon  made  great  proficiency  in  the  business  and 
found  himself  extremely  happy,  as  he  was  enabled  to 
gratify  his  favorite  inclination  for  reading,  by  borrow- 
ing books  from  the  apprentices  of  book-sellers,  with 
whom  he  become  acquainted.  Franklin  now  wrote 
several  little  poetical  pieces,  and  his  brother  thinking 
that  this  talent  might  be  turned  to  advantage,  persua- 
ded him  to  write  two  ballads ;  one  of  which  was  call- 
ed the  Liglit'Housc  Tragedy,  and  was  founded  on 
a  melancholy  accident,vvhich  had  lately  happened, 
viz.  the  drowning  of  Captain  Worthilake  and  his  two 
daughters  3  and  the  other asaiior  song, on  the  capture 


DICTIONARY.  2i^9 

of  Te?ich  or  Blackbeard^  the  noted  pirate.     Although 
it   is  probable,  that  these  first  productions  of  our  au- 
thor niight  afford  no  presage  of  his   future  greatness, 
yet  a  perusal   of  them  would    be  highly    satisfactory. 
They  are  now,  however,  no  where  to  be  found.     Dr, 
Franklin  himself  used  to  say,  that  they  were  wretched 
stuff,  in   the  style   of  Grub-street  ballads.     However 
this  may  be,   they  were  read  with   great  avidity,  and 
much  applauded.     This  raised  the  vanity  of  our  young 
author,   and  he  probably  would  have  gone  on    in  the 
service  of  the  muses,  had  not  his  father,  by  criticising 
his  performances,  and  shevving  him  the  unprofitable- 
ness of  poetry,  turned  his  thoughts  to  pursuits,  which, 
though  less  pleasing,  enabled   him  to  render  services 
to  mankind  of  a  m.cre  essential  and  permanent  nature. 
About  this  time,  our  author  had  formed  an  intimate 
acquaintance  wih    a  lad  named  John  Collins,  who 
was,  like  himself,  remarkably  fond  of  reading.     For 
the   sake  of  mutual  improvement,   it   was  usual  for 
these    two  friends   to  dispute   upon  various  subjects. 
At  last  a  topic  was  started,  which  produced  a  longer 
discussion  than  usual;  and  as  they  parted  without  de- 
termining the  point,  and  business  not  permitting  them 
to  see  each  other  frequently,   Fianklin  committed  his 
arguments  to  writing  and  sent  them  to  Collins,  who 
replied  in  the  same    way.     Several  letters  had  passed 
between  them,  when  the  papers  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Franklin's  father,  who,  without  entering  into  the  mer- 
its of  the  cause,  took  occasion  to  point  out  to  his  son, 
that^  though  he  excelled  his  antagonist  in  orthography 
and  punctuation,  he  was  much  interior  to  him  ip  ele- 
gance  of  expression,  arrangement   and    perspicuity. 
Convinced  of  the  justice  of  his  father's  remarks,  he  de- 
termined to  improve   his  manner  of  writing.     Fortu- 
nately the  third  volume   of  the  Spectator  tell  in   his 
way;  and  as  the  style   appeared  to  him  to  be  excel- 
lent, he  resolved  to  imitate  it.     His  method  of  doing 
this  was  crowned  with  the  desired  success:  we  there- 
fore conceive  it  may  be  useful,  at  least  to  our  young 


S90  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

readers,  if  we  communicate  it.  After  reading  a  paper 
over,  he  took  short  notes  of  the  sentiments.  These 
he  laid  by  for  a  few  days,  and  then  without  open- 
ing the  book  endeavoured  to  complete  the  paper,  by 
expressing  the  sentiments  at  length.  Finding  himself 
sometimes  at  a  loss  for  words,  he  thought  he  might 
remedy  that  deficiency,  by  again  having  recourse  to 
making  verses,  in  which  the  constant  want  of  words 
of  the  same  import,  but  of  different  length  and  sound 
to  suit  the  rhyme,  obliges  a  person  to  seek  for  a  varie- 
ty of  vv'ords,  and  to  impress  this  variety  upon  the  mind. 
He  accordingly  turned  some  of  the  tales  of  the  Spec- 
tators into  verse,  and  after  some  time  into  prose  again. 
He  sometimes  threw  his  hints  into  a  confused,  state, 
and,  after  a  few  weeks,  endeavored  to  reduce  them  to 
order.  He  thus  acquired  a  method  of  expressing  his 
thoughts  ;  and  by  comparing  his  composition  with  the 
original,  was  enabled  to  correct  any  inacuracy  in  the 
style  or  rirrangement.  Sometimes,  he  conceived,  that, 
in  a  few  instances,  he  had  improved  upon  the  lan- 
guage and  method  of  the  original,  and  this  encourag- 
ed him  to  persevere  in  his  attempts  to  be  a  fine  wri- 
ter. The  world  knows  how  completely  he  succeed- 
ed, and  from  this  account,  we  may  not  only  learn  how 
he  acquired  that  beautiful  and  unadorned  simplicity 
of  style,,  which  so  remarkably  characterizes  all  his  wri- 
tings, but  also,  what  steps  others,  (particularly  such  as 
have  not  the  means  of  obtaining  a  systematic  educa- 
tion,) should  pursue,  to  acquire  a  degree  of  literary  emi- 
nence. 

Every  moment  of  time,  which  Franklin  could  spare 
from  the  duties  of  his  profession,  was  entirely  devo- 
ted to  study.  Often  did  the  silent  midnight  hour 
bear  witness  to  his  labours,  and  when  obliged  to  return 
a  book  early  in  the  morning,  his  eyes  remained  stran- 
gers to  sleep  daring  the  night.  When  he  was  about 
sixteen  years  of  age,  from  the  perusal  of  a  perform- 
ance of  Tryon,  he  was  persuaded  of  the  superior  ad- 
vantages of  a  vegetable  diet,  and  determined  to  adopt 


DICTIONARY.  291 

the  practice.  As  this  could  not  easily  be  done  in  the 
family  in  which  he  boarded,  he  agreed  with  his  bro- 
ther to  board  himself  for  halt  the  price  ;  and  such  was 
his  frugality  and  temperance,  that  he  even  saved  half 
that  sum  for  the  purpose  of  buying  books.  As  his 
morsel  was  quickly  dispatched,  he  was  enabled  to 
devote  a  great  part  of  that  time  to  study,  which  the 
other  workmen  spent  at  their  meals;  and  his  slight 
repast  was,  likewise,  more  favorable  to  mental  pur- 
suits. 

Franklin,  at  an  early  period,  had  an  opportunity  of 
bringing  into  use,  those  treasures  of  knowledge,  which 
he.  had  thus  accumulated.  Before  the  year  1720, 
there  wasonly  one  news-paper,  the  Boston  News-Let- 
ter, in  North  America,  although  they  are  now  to  be 
found  in  every  town  or  village  of  any  note.  About 
this  time,  his  brother  began  to  publish  the  New-Eng- 
land Courant,  and  in  this  he  was  assisted  by  a  number 
of  literary  characters,  who  occasionally  wrote  essays 
for  the  papers,  w^hich  were  much  approved.  Benja- 
min felt  a  strong  inclination  to  become  an  author.  He 
wrote  a  small  piece,  and  apprehensive,  that,  if  known 
to  be  his,  it  would  be  rejected,  he  disguised  his  hand, 
and  conveyed  it  under  the  door  of  the  printing-office. 
Judge,  ye,  who  have  been  authors,  what  must  have 
been  his  sensations,  when  he  found  his  performance 
honoured  with  the  most  liberal  applause,  and  attri- 
buted to  several  men  of  eminent  literary  abilities. 
This  approbation  encouraged  him  to  go  on,  and  he 
wrote  several  other  pieces,  which  were  equally  well 
received.  He,  at  length,  avowed  himself  to  be  the 
author,  and  thus  obtained  the  notice  of  his  brother's 
literary  friends,  who,  from  that  time,  conversed  with 
him  with  more  freedom  and  attention. 

About  the  year  1723,  some  political  essays  in  the 
New-England  Courant,  gave  offence  to  the  Assembly ; 
and  as  the  printer  would  not  discover  the  authors,  he 
was  committed  to  prison  for  one  month.  An  order,  at 
the  same  time,  passed  the  house,  that  James  Franklin 


S92  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

should  no  longer  print  the  New  England  Courant. 
Various  expedients  were  proposed  to  evade  the  order; 
but  it  was  at  length  determined,  that  it  should  be  con- 
ducted under  the  name  of  Benjamin  Franklin.  As  he 
was  still  an  apprentice,  and  the  censure  of  the  Legis- 
lature might,  therefore,  fall  upon  his  brother,  his  in- 
dentures were  delivered  up :  but  as  the  brother  was 
still  desirous  to  retain  his  services,  he  obliged  him  to 
sign  a  private  agreement,  by  which  he  was  bound 
to  remain  with  him  the  time  first  stipulated.  A  few 
months  after,  a  quarrel  arose  between  the  two  brothers, 
which,  as  all  attempts  to  reconcile  them  proved  abor- 
tive, determined  Benjamin  to  leave  his  service  ;  and 
as  he  was  prevented,  by  the  exertions  of  his  brother, 
from  procuring  work  in  Boston,  he  was  under  the 
necessity  of  leaving  his  native  town,  and  accordingly 
set  out  for  New  York. 

Meeting  with  no  encouragement  in  that  city,  he 
proceeded  to  Philadelphia,  travelling  partly  by  water, 
and  fifty  miles  by  land  on  foct,  through  rain  and  dirt, 
suspected  and  in  danger  of  being  taken  up  as  a  runa- 
way servant.  He  arrived  there  on  a  Sundav  morning,  | 
in  a  very  dirty  condition,  in  the  clothes,  in  which  he  * 
had  travelled  from  New- York,  weary  and  hungry, 
having,  for  some  time,  been  without  rest  and  food,  a 
perfect  stranger  to  every  body  and  his  whole  stock  of 
cash  consisting  only  of  a  Dutch  dollar.  At  a  baker^s 
shop,  he  purchased  some  rolls,  and  as  his  pockets, 
being  filled  with  clothes,  could  not  contain  them, 
he  put  one  under  each  arm  and  eating  a  third,  walked 
along  through  several  of  the  streets,  in  quest  of  a  lodg- 
ing, which  he  at  last  found  at  a  tavern  in  Water  street, 
still  well  known  by  the  name  of  the  Crooked  billet. 
Such  was  the  entry  of  Benjamin  Franklin  into  the  city 
of  Philadelphia.  From  such  beginning,  did  he  rise 
to  the  highest  eminence,  and  respectability  not  only 
in  America,  but  amongst  all  civilized  nations. 

There  were,  at  that  time,  only  two  printers  in  Phi- 
ladelphia, viz.  Mr,  Andrew  Bradford,  and   a  Mr. 


DlCtlONARY.  S9S 

Keimer  ;  the  former  of  whom  received  our  adventurer 
with  great  civility  ;  but  having  no  occasion  for  his 
services,  recommended  him  to  the  latter,  by  whom 
he  was  soon  after  employed.  Franklin,  for  some 
time,  lodged  at  Bradford's,  bat  as  this  was  not  agree- 
able to  Keimer,  he  procured  him  a  lodging  at  th^ 
house  of  a  Mr.  Read,  \^hose  daughter  was  afterwards 
Mrs.  Franklin. 

The  steadiness,  skill,  activity  and  communicative 
manner  of  our  adventurer  attracted  the  notice  of 
many  of  the  most  eminent  people  in  the  city,  particu- 
larly of  Sir  William  Keith,  who  was  at  that  time  go- 
vernor of  the  province.  This  gentleman  often  invited 
Franklin  to  his  house,  where  he  treated  him  in  the 
most  friendly  manner.  He,  at  last,  advised  him  to 
enter  into  business  for  himself ;  insisted  on  the  favour- 
able prospects,  which  were  before  him,  as  the  two 
printers  were  very  ignorant  of  their  profession,  and 
promised  to  assist  him  with  all  his  influence.  Such 
observations  frequently  repeated  induced  Franklin, 
after  an  absence  of  about  seven  months,  to  return  to 
Boston,  in  order  that  he  might  consult  with  his  father 
to  whom  he  likewise  carried  a  letter  from  the  gover- 
nor, giving  the  most  favourable  account  of  his  good 
conduct  and  behaviour.  The  old  gentleman,  thinking 
it  too  adventurous  to  set  up  a  lad  of  eighteen  years  as 
a  master  printer,  by  no  means  relished  the  project. — 
He  accordingly  advised  his  son  to  return  to  Philadel- 
phia, and  work  as  a  journeyman,  until  he  was  of  age, 
at  which  time  he  would  endeavor  to  assist  him.  Frank- 
lin saw  the  propriety  of  his  father's  counsel,  and  there- 
fore, after  a  short  stay,  returned  to  Philadelphia,  where 
he  immediately  went  to  work,  with  his  usual  cheer- 
fulness and  diligence. 

Franklin's  fondness  for  reading  and  thirst  for  im- 
provement did  not  forsake  him  whe.n  he  left  Boston. 
He  soon  formed  an  acquaintance  with  several  young 
men  of  a  studious  disposition,  whom  he  formed  into  a 
sort  of  literary  association,  which  met  at  certain  peri- 

Vol.  11.  No.  15.         D3 


394  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

ods,  for  the  purpose  of  communicating  to  each  pfher 
their  little  compositions  ;  and  as  each  member  was 
freely  permitted  to  comment  and  criticise  on  the  se- 
veral productions  which  were  laid  before  them,  it  af- 
forded them  an  excellent  opportunity  both  for  enter- 
tainment and  instruction. 

In  the  mean  time,  Sir  William  Keith  still  professed 
a  great  regard  for  Franklin  ;  blamed  his  father  for 
what  he  called  unnecessary  caution  ;  as  a  proof  of  his 
friendship  desired  to  be  furnished  w^ith  an  inventory  of 
what  was  needful  in  a  printing-office  and  expressed 
his  intention  of  procuring  them  from  England,  and 
cnabitng  our  young  printer  to  enter  into  business  for 
himself :  he  at  last  enquired  of  Franklin,  whether  it 
would  not  be  of  consequence,  that  he  himself  should 
visit  England,  to  make  the  purchase.  To  this  Frank- 
Jin  readily  assented  and  took  a  passage  in  the  only 
vessel,  which  then  regularly  sailed  between  London 
and  Philadelphia.  Keith  had,  likewise,  professed, 
that  he  would  give  him  letters  of  recommendation 
which  would  enable  him  to  purchase  every  thing  ne- 
cessary. 

After  various  delays  the  governor*s  dispatches  ar- 
rived on  board  the  ship  at  Nev^-Castle,  and  Franklin 
supposing  his  letters  were  amongst  them,,  remained 
satisfied  for  the  present.  On  their  entrance  into  the 
British  Channel,  he  picked  out  several  letters,  which 
he  supposed,  from  the  directions,  to  be  his  letters  of 
recommendation  ;  but  how  cruelly  was  he  disappoint- 
ed, to  find  upon  his  arrival  in  London,  that  not  one 
had  been  written  in  his  favour.  The  truth  is,  he  had 
been  trusting  to  a  man,  in  whom  no  one,  who  knew 
him  placed  any  confidence  ;  a  man,  who  v\  as  liberal 
of  promises,  but  had  not  wherewith  to  fulfil  them. — 
Here  was  our  young  printer  again  in  a  strange  place, 
unacquainted  with  every  body  and  left  to  take  care  of 
himself  at  the  age  of  nineteen  years,  but  being  now 
well  acquainted  with  his  business,  he  soon  found 
employment   as    a  journeyman   with   Mr.   Palmer, 


DICTIONARY.  3g*5 

an  eminent  printer,  with  whom  he  wrought  sometime 
at  press  and  afterwards  as  compositor. 

After  about  twelve  months  stay,  he  quitted  Mr, 
Palmer  and  was  engaged  by  Mr.  Watts,  another 
eminent  printer,  with  whom 'he  continued  during  the 
remainder  of  his  stay  in  London. 

He  was  uncommonly  industrious,  frugal  and  regu- 
lar in  his  deportment,  while  he  worked  as  a  journey- 
man 3  and,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  acquired  a  great 
ascendancy  over  his  fellow  workmen,  had,  in  a  very 
high  degree,  the  favour  and  affection  of  his  two  em- 
ployers. 

'  We  ought  to  have  mentioned  before  now,  that,  for 
some  time,  prior  to  his  departure  from  Philadelphia, 
he  had  paid  his  addresses  to  Miss  Read,  whom  he 
afterwards  married.  Her  mother  had  opposed  their 
union,  not  conceiving  their  prospects  to  be  quite  so 
favourable  as  they  appeared  to  him.  Notwithstand- 
ing which  when  preparing  to  embark,  they  had 
Hautually  plighted  their  faith  to  each  other. 

During  his  stay  in  London,  he  conceived  an  idea  of 
travelling  with  a  friend  one  Wyngate,  over  Europe, 
on  foot,  and  supporting  himself  by  his  business. — 
From  this  scheme,  which,  had  it  been  carried  into 
execution,  might  have  deprived  society  of  most  of  the 
benefits,  which  have  resulted  from  this  great  man's 
labours,  he  was  fortunately  dissuaded  by  an  Ameri- 
can gentleman  of  the  name  cf  Denham,  who  was 
then  on  the  point  of  returning  to  Philadelphia,  and 
offered  him  fifty  pounds  sterling  per  annum  to  keep 
his  books,  8»lc,  lo  this  he  acceded  and  after  a  stay  of 
eighteen  months  bid  farewell  to  London.  He  sailed 
from  Gravesend,  the  23d. of  July,  1726,  and  landed 
in  Philadelphia,  ihe  1 1th  of  October  following. 

His  prospects  were  now  flattering  ;  as  his  employ- 
ment under  Mr.  Denham,  who  proposed  to  send  him 
to  the" West  Lndies,  as  supercargo,  and  to  procure  him 
commissions,  bid  fair  to  advance  him  gradually  to  an 
independent  situation,  but  the  death  of  that  gentle- 


S96  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL- 

man,  which  happened  in  the  spring  of  1727,  entirely 
blasted  these  expectations.  He  now  encjpavoured  to 
procure  employment  as  a  merchant's  clerk,  but  not  suc- 
ceeding, he  once  more  engaged  withKeimer,  who  had 
several  ignorant  journeymen  to  instruct,  and  who  seized 
the  opportunity  of  procuring  a  person,  who  was  capa- 
ble of  perfecting  them  in  their  business.  From  Keimer, 
he  got  high  wages;  and  lived  on  good  terms  with  him, 
till  his  assistance  became  less  necessary,  as  the  other 
workmen  had  grown  more  skilful.  When  Keimer 
found  this,  he  altered  his  conduct  and  treated  him 
with  great  coolness  and  austerity,  which  brought  on  a 
quarrel  between  them,  in  consequence  of  which  they 
parted  :  But  Keimer  soon  after  wanting  his  assistance 
made  concessions  and  the  agreement  was  renewed. 

Meredith,  one  of  Keimer's  journeymen,  whose  fa- 
ther was  possessed  of  some  property,  proposed  to  pro- 
cure from  him  money  sufficient  to  purchase  printing 
materials,  and  to  enter  into  partnership  with  Mr. 
Franklin.  The  types  and  press  were  soon  after  pro- 
cured, when  they  began  business  with  tolerable  suc- 
cess. Meredith  was  an  idle,  dissolute  fellow,  whilst 
Franklin,  on  the  other  hand,  was  one  of  the  yost  in- 
dustrious men  in  the  province.  Meredith's  father, 
had,  likewise,  paid  but  in  part  for  the  materials  and 
had  entered  into  engagements  to  pay  the  remainder 
at  a  future  day.  But  when  that  day  came,  he  found 
it  impossible  to  fulfil  his  engagements  :  hence  the 
partners  were,  for  some  time,  in  a  very  precarious 
situation.  Meredith,  at  length,  made  Mr.  Franklin 
an  offer  of  resigning  the  business  to  him,  provided  he 
would  repay  his  father  and  give  himself  a  small  sum 
to  defray  his  expences  to  North  Carolina,  with  which 
terms,  Franklin  was  enabled  to  comply,  by  the  kind 
assistance  of  two  worthy  friends,  and  thus  became  sole 
master  of  the  stock  in  trade,  &c. 

Keimer  had  before  this  set  up  a  paper  ;  but  having 
conducted  it  in  a  wretched  manner,  had  met  with 
little  encouragemeat,    He  offered  it  to  Franklin  for  a 


DICTIONARY.  397 

triflle  ;  the  terms  were  agreed  to,  and  the  paper  was 
afterwards  conducted  in  such  a  superior  style,  that  it 
soon  became  an  object  of  great  imoortance. 

On  the  1st  September,  1730,  Mr.  Franklin  was 
married  to  Miss  Read,  who  proved  a  valuable  and  af- 
fectionate wife.  Her  assistance  and  attention  to  bu- 
siness,  made  affairs  proceed  more  prosperously ;  and 
they  gradually  became  easy  and  independent  in  their 
circumstances. 

Poor  Richard's  almanack,  which  had  such  a  saluta- 
ry effect  on  the  morals  and  conduct  of  the  Pennsylva- 
nians,  by  the  maxims  of  frugality,  temperance,  indus^, 
try  and  integrity,  which  it  inculcated,  was  begun  by 
Mr.  Franklin  in  1732,  and  continued  by  him  for  about 
twenty-five  years.  So  great  was  its  reputation,  that 
he  even  then  sold  about  ten  thousand  s.r.nua]ly.  The 
whole  of  the  maxims  were  collected  together  in  the 
form  of  an  address,  and  published  In  the  last  one.  This 
address  has  been  translated  into  various  languages 
and  every  where  received  with  approbation. 

Mr.  Franklin's  first  advancement  in  public  life,  was 
in  1736,  when  he  was  chosen  clerk  of  the  general  as- 
sembly^of  the  province,  in  which  office  he  continued" 
for  several  years.  In  1737,  he  was  appointed  post- 
master in  Philadelphia,  which  gave  him  considerable 
advantages  as  the  printer  of  a  newspaper. 

About  this  time,  his  patriotic  mind  ever  intent  on  the 
promotion  of  public  good,  projected  a  reform  in  the  re- 
gulations of  the  watchmen  of  Philadelphia,  and  a  plan 
of  a  fire  company.  This  latter  was  the  source  of  the 
numerous  fire-companies  in  this  country,  which  have 
been  found  of  such  great  benefit  in  preventing  the  de- 
structive ravages  of  that  element. 

Dr.  Franklin  planned,  and  was  the  principal  instru- 
ment in  the  establishment  of  the  academy  of  Philadel- 
phia, from  which  has  sprung  the  university  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  to  him,  likewiie,  the  Philadelphia  library, 
which  is  now  by  far  the  most  respectable  in  the  Unit- 
ed States,  owes  its  origin. 


39S  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL  "^ 

In  1747,  he  was  chosen  a  representative  in  the  as^ 
sembly  for  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  This  honour  was 
repeatedly  conferred  on  him  for  ten  years,  without  his 
ever  having  solicited  a  vote,  or  having  directly  or  indi- 
rectly expressed  a  wish  to  be  chosen.  In  this  sta- 
tion, he  was,  perhaps,  the  most  useful  legislator,  that 
ever  sat  in  that  or  any  other  house  of  assembly.  On 
every  business  of  importance,  his  presence  was  al« 
"ways  considered  as  indispensible.  In  the  long  con- 
tests betv^^een  the  proprietaries  and  their  governors,  he 
took  the  most  active  part.  He  drew  up,  nearly  all  the 
messages  and  replies  to  the  governors,  which  display- 
ed a  firm  spirit  of  liberty,  and  a  profound  knowledge 
of  the  rights  of  the  people.  He,  likewise,  originated 
many  of  the  most  salutary  laws  passed  in  the  province 
during  that  time. 

In  1752,  Dr.  Bond  projected  the  plan  of  the  Penn- 
sylvania hospital  and  made  every  exertion  to  procure 
subscriptions  for  it ;  but  the  business  proceeded  very 
languidly  until  he  applied  to  Mr.  Franklin  for  assist- 
ance. He  employed  the  newspaper  in  its  favour,  and 
moreover,  made  use  of  his  personal  influence  to  in- 
crease t(ie  fund.  The  success,  in  consequence,  was 
considerable;  but  not  sufficient  to  enable  them  to 
carry  the  plan  into  execution.  Mr.  Franklin  then  ap- 
plied to  the  assembly  ;  and  prepared  a  bill  which  de- 
clared, that  when  the  voluntary  subscriptions  should 
amount  to  two  thousand  pounds,  the  speaker  of  the 
assembly  should  be  empowered  to  draw  an  order  on 
the  treasurer  of  the  province  for  two  thousand  pounds 
more  to  enable  the  trustees  to  erect  the  hospital. — 
Those  members,  who  were  opposed  to  the  plan, 
thinking  it  impossible  to  raise  the  stipulated  sum, 
ceased  their  opposition  and  the  bill  passed.  This  very 
clause,  which  they  imagined  would  prevent  the  ope- 
ration of  the  bill,  eventually  proved  the  strongest  in- 
ducem^ent  to  an  encrease  of  subscribers,  as  every 
person   interested  in  the  success  of  the  scheme,  was 


DICTIONARY.  S99 

Stimulated  to  encrease  his  effort,  in  order  to  secu^*e  the 
assembly's  donation. 

But  whilst  Franklin  Vv^as  thus  active  in  devising  and 
carrying  plans  into  effect,  so  highly  beneficial  to  his 
country,  he  was  very  attentive  to  his  business  as  a 
printer,  and,  likewise,  found  leisure  to  devote  some 
part  ot  his  time  to  the  investigation  of  those  great  dis- 
coveries in  science,  which  have  since  associated  his 
name  with  that  of  the  immortal  Newton.  The  Ley- 
den  experiment  in  electricity,  having  rendered  that 
science,  an  object  of  general  curiosity,  Mr.  Franklin 
applied  himself  to  it,  with  great  assiduity,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  his  fame  as  an  electrician  was  soon 
spread  over  all  Europe.  The  greatest  discovery,  which 
he  made  in  that  science,  and  which  has  been  of  the 
greatest  practical  use  to  mankind  was  that  of  the  per- 
fect similarity  between  electrical  fire  and  lightning. 
He  begins  his  account  of  that  similarity  by  cautioning 
his  readers  against  being  staggered  at  the  great  dif- 
ference of  the  effects  of  the  electric  fluid  and  light- 
ning, in  point  of  degree,  since  that  is  no  argument  of 
any  disparity  in  their  nature.  "  It  is  no  wonder,** 
says  he,  *^  if  the  effects  of  the  one  should  be  much 
greater  than  those  of  the  other,  for  if  two  gun  barrels 
electrified  will  strike  at  two  inches  distance,  and 
make  a  loud  report,  at  how  great  a  distance  will 
10,000  acres  of  electric  cloud  strike  and  give  its  fire 
and  how  loud  must  be  that  crack  !'* 

To  demonstrate,  in  the  completest  manner  possible, 
the  sameness  of  the  electric  fluid  with  the  matter  of 
lightning,  Mr.  Franklin,  astonishing  as  it  must  then 
have  appeared,  contrived  actually  to  bring  lightning 
from  the  heavens  by  means  of  an  electrical  kite,  which 
he  raised  when  a  storm  of  thunder  was  observed  to 
be  coming  on.  This  kite  had  a  pointed  wire  fixed 
on  it,  by  which  it  drew  the  lightning  from  the  clouds. 
This  lightning  descended  by  the  hempen  string,  and 
was  received  by  a  key  tied  to  the  extremity  of  it,  that 
part  of  thQ  string  which  was  held  in  his  hand   being 


4:00  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

of  silk,  that  the  electric  virtue  might  stop,  when  It 
came  to  the  key.  He  found  that  the  string  would  con- 
duct electricity,  when  nearly  dry — but  when  it  was 
wet,  that  it  would  conduct  it  quite  freely,  so  that  it 
would  stream  out  plentifully  from  the  key  and  at  the 
approach  of  a  person's  finger.  At  this  key  he  charged 
phials  ;  and  from  electric  fire  thus  obtained,  kindled 
spirits  and  performed  all  other  electrical  experiments, 
which  are  usually  exhibited  by  an  excited  globe  or  tube. 

Besides  the  kite,  Alf.  Franklin  had  afterwards  an 
insulated  rod  to  draw  the  lightning  into  his  house,  in 
order  to  make  experiments,  whenever  there  should 
be  a  considerable  quantity  of  it  in  the  atmosphere,  and 
that  he  might  lose  no  opportunity  of  that  nature,  he 
connected  two  bells  with  this  apparatus,  which  gave 
him  notice  by  their  ringing,  whenever  the  rod  was 
electrified. 

The  grand  practical  uses,  which  he  made  of  this 
discovery  of  the  sameness  of  electricity  and  lightning, 
w^as  to  prevent  buildings  from  being  damaged  by 
lightning.  This  he  accomplished  by  fixing  a  metal- 
line rod  higher  than  any  part  of  the  building  and  com- 
nvunicating  with  the  ground,  or  rather  the  nearest^ 
water.  The  lightning  is  sure  to  seize  upon  the  wire, 
preferably  to  any  other  part  of  the  building,  whereby 
that  dangerous  power  is  safely  conducted  to  the  earth, 
without  doing  any  harm  to  the  edifice. 

j\Ir.  Franklin's  theory  of  positive  and  negative  elec- 
tricity, received  also  the  sanction  of  public  approba- 
tion. Flis  theories,  however,  were  at  first  opposed  by 
the  members  of  the  Royal  Society  in  London  ;  but  in 
1755,  they  voted  him  the  geld  medal,  which  is  annu- 
ally given  to  the  person,  who  presents  a  memoir  on  the 
most  interesting  subject.  Fie  was  likewise  admitted 
a  member  of  the  society,  and  soon  after  lionored  with- 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  from  the  Universities 
of  St.  Andrew's  in  Scotland,  and  Oxford  in  England. 

In  1754,  he  was  appointed  one  of  the  comniission- 
ers  from  Pennsylvania,  to  L-:tend  at  the  celebrated  Al- 


PICTIOJJARY.  iO\ 

bany  congress,  in  order  to  devise  a  plan  for  defending 
the  country  against  the  French,  with  whom  a  war  was 
apprehended.  Here  he  drew  up  his  "  Albany  plant 
of  union,"  which,  with  some  slight  alterations,  was 
unanimously  agreed  to  by  congress,  and  copies  order- 
ed to  be  transmitted  to  the  board  of  trade  in  England 
and  to  the  assemblies  of  the  different  provinces.  But 
what  was  rather  singular,  it  was  rejected  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic  ;  by  the  board  of  trade  as  too  demo- 
cratic, and  by  the  assemblies  as  too  favourable  to  pre- 
rogative. This  is,  perhaps,  the  strongest  proof  of  the 
justice  of  the  plan,  which,  had  it  been  carried  into  ex- 
ecution, would,  in  all  probability,  have  prevented  the 
desolation  caused  by  the  late  war  ;  as  it  would  have 
entirely  removed  the  original  cause  of  complaint  on 
both  sides. 

Higher  employment,  however,  at  length  called  him 
from  his  country,  which  he  was  destined  to  serve  more 
effectually  as  its  agent  in  England,  whither  he  was  first 
sent,  in  that  capacity,  in  the  year  1757  ;  and  having 
completed  the  business  of  his  appointment,  he  returned 
to  Philadelphia  in  1762,  where  he  received  the  fullest: 
thanks,  not  only  from  his  fellow-citizens  in  general, 
but  also  from  the  legislature. 

The  disputes  between  the  assembly  of  Pennsylvania 
and  the  proprietaries,  which  had,  for  some  time,  ap- 
peared to  be  calmed,  were  early  in  1764  again  re- 
vived, and  carried  on  with  such  obstinacy,  that  the  as- 
sembly finally  came  to  a  resolution  against  continuing 
under  a  proprietary  government,  and  sent  Dr.  Frank- 
lin to  England,  with  a  petition  to  have  a  new  form  es- 
tablished, and  to  be  taken  under  the  royal  protection. 
But  after  a  long  negociation,  there  was  a  kind  of  com- 
promise agreed  upon,  which,  for  a  while,  appeased 
the  assembly. 

During  his  residence  in  England,  at  this  period,  he 
was  honored  with  agencies  from  the  colonies  of  New- 
Jersey,  Georgia  and  Massachusetts. 

In  1766,  he  travelled  into  Germany,  and  in  1767 

Vol.  II.  No,  15.         E  3 


402  KEW    BIOGRAPHICAL. 

into  France;  and  wherever  he  made  his  appearance, 
he  was  received  with  the  highest  degree  of  respect 
and  veneration.  He  was  introduced  to  the  kings  of 
France  and  Denmark,  and  to  most  of  the  Hterary  cha- 
racters of  the  former  kingdom.  About  this  time,  he 
re-printed  his  philosophical  papers,  with  many  in> 
portant  additions  ;  nor  could  any  thing  exceed  the 
approbation,  with  which  they  were  received. 

While  the  stamp-act  was  under  consideration,  he 
clearly  foresaw  the  consequences  which  were  to  be 
dreaded  from  it,  and  took  every  possible  step  to  pre- 
vent its  enaction  ;  but  in  vain.  Afterwards,  when  the 
opposition  to  it  in  this  country  was  such,  as  to  embar- 
rass and  confound  the  ministry,  an  alteration  was  de- 
termined upon.  And  in  order  to  enable  parliament 
to  ascertain  how  far  they  might  proceed  with  safety, 
he  was,  in  the  year  1766,  called  to  the  bar  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  where  he  underwent  that  famous 
interrogatory,  which  placed  the  name  of  Franklin  as 
'high  in  politics,  as  it  was  before  in  natural  philosophy. 

From  that  time,  he  defended  the  cause  of  America 
with  a  firmness  and  moderation  becoming  a  great 
man,  pointing  out  to  ministry  all  the  errors  they  had 
committed,  and  the  consequences  they  would  induce, 
till  the  period  when  the  tax  on  tea  meeting  the  same 
opposition  as  the  stamp-act  had  done,  England  blind- 
ly fancied  herself  capable  of  subjecting  by  force  three 
millions  of  men  determined  to  be  free,  at  the  distance 
of  upwards  of  3000  miles. 

He  then,  finding  all  efforts  to  restore  harmony 
between  Great  Britain  and  her  colonies  fruitless, 
returned  to  America,  in  the  year  1775,  just  after 
the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and  had  the  satisfac- 
tion to  find,  that  his-public  services  met  with  the  most 
flattering  reward,  that  a  patriot  can  possibly  desire — 
4he  unbounded  applause  and  admiration  of  his  coun- 
trymen. He  was  immediately  elected  a  mernber  of 
congress,  and  sent  to  the  camp  before  Boston,  in  order 
to  convey  to  the  officers  and  others,  a  clear  idea  of  th 


1 


BICTIONARYo  402 

state  of  parties  in  England,  and  the  necessity  of  deci- 
sive measures,  to  preserve  the  rights  of  the  united  cO' 
lonies. 

Ill  1776,  he  was  elected  a  member  of  a  committee 
of  Congress,  appointed  to  wait  on  Lord  Howe,  and 
enquire  into  the  extent  of  some  powers,  which  his 
lordship  had  told  them  he  was  invested  with,  to  treat 
for  the  restoration  of  peace.  The  other  members  of 
this  committee  were  John  Adams,  the  late  President 
of  the  United  States  and  Edward  Rutledge.  On  their 
return  to  Congress,  they  reported  that  the  powers 
possessed  by  lord  Howe,  appeared,  on  investigation, 
to  be  only  those  of  granting  pardons,  with  such  excep- 
tions as  he  and  his  brother,  the  general,  might  think 
proper  to  make;  and  of  declaring  America,  or  any 
part  of  it,  to  be  in  the  king's  peace,  on  submission. 
Lord  Howe  having  expressed  his  concern,  at  being 
obliged  to  distress  those  whom  he  so  much  regarded. 
Dr.  Franklin  assured  him,  that  the  Americans  out  of  a 
reciprocal  regard,  would  endeavour  to  lessen,  as  much 
as  possible,  the  pain  he  might  feel  on  their  account, 
by  taking  the  utmost  care  of  themselves. 

The  momentous  question  of  independence  was 
soon  after  brought  into  view,  at  a  time  when  the  fleets 
and  armies,  which  were  sent  to  enforce  obedience, 
were  truly  formidable.  With  an  army  numerous  in- 
deed, but  ignorant  of  discipline  and  entirely  unskill- 
ed in  the  art  of  war,  without  money,  without  a  fleet, 
without  allies,  and  with  nothing  but  the  love  of  liber- 
ty to  support  them,  the  colonists  determined  to  sepa- 
rate from  a  country,  from  v*^hich  they  had  experienced 
a  repetition  of  injury  and  insult.  In  this  question^ 
Dr.  Franklin  was  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  measure 
proposed,  and  had  great  influence  in  bringing  over 
others  to  his  sentiments. 

In  the  convention,  which  assembled  in  Philadel- 
phia, in  1776,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  anew 
form  of  government  for  the  state  of  Pennsylvania,  Dr. 
Franklin  was  chosen  president.     The  late  constitutioa 


404  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

of  that  state,  which  was  the  result  of  their  delibera- 
tions, may  be  considered  as  a  digest  of  his  principles 
of  government.  The  single  legislature,  and  Jhe  plural 
executive,  seem  to  have  been  his  favourite  tenets. 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  same  year,  congress  sensi- 
ble how  much  Dr.  Franklin  was  esteemed  in  France^ 
sent  him  thither  to  put  a  finishing  hand  to  the  private 
negociations  of  Mr.  Silas  Deane ;  and  this  important' 
commission  was  readily  accepted  by  the  Doctor^ 
though  then  in  the  71st  year  of  his  age.  The  event 
is  well  known  :  a  treaty  of  alliance  and  commerce 
was  signed  between  France  and  America,  6th  Febru- 
ary, 1778  ;  and  M.  le  Roy  asserts,  that  the  doctor  had 
a  great  share  in  the  transaction,  by  strongly  advising 
the  French  minister  not  to  lose  a  single  moment,  if  he 
wished  to  secure  the-  friendship  of  America,  and  to 
detach  it  from  the  mother  country.  Dr.  Franklin 
also  completed  a  treaty  of  amity  and  commerce  with 
Sweden,  and  greatly  assisted  the  negociations  of  Mr. 
Adams  in  Holland. 

Having,  at  last,  seen  the  accomplishment  of  his 
wishes,  by  the  conclusion  of  the  peace  in  1783,  which 
confirmed  the  independence  of  America,  he  became 
desirous  of  revisiting  his  native  country.  He,  there- 
fore, requested  to  be  recalled,  and,  after  repeated  so- 
licitations, Mr.  Jefferson,- now  President  of  the  Uni- 
ted States,  was  appointed  to  succeed  him.  On  the 
arrival  of  his  successor,  he  repaired  to  Havre  de  Grace, 
and  crossing  the  channel,  landed  on  the  Isle  of  Wight ; 
and  sailing  again  almost  immediately,  arrived  after  a 
favourable  passage,  at  Philadelphia,  in  September 
1785.  He  was  received  amidst  the  acclamation  of  a 
vast  multitude,  who  flocked  from  all  parts  to  see  him, 
and  who  conducted  him  in  triumph  to  his  own  house. 
He  was  shortly  after  chosen  a  member  of  the  supreme 
executive  council  of  Pennsylvania,  and  soon  alter 
was  made  president  of  the  same. 

When  a  convention  was  called  to  meet  in  Philadel- 
phia, in  1787,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  more  energf 


DICTIOHARY.  405 

to  the  governmerrt  of  the  union,  by  revising  and  amend- 
ing the  articles  of  confederation.  Dr.  Franklin  was  ap- 
pointed a  delegate  from  the  state  of  Pennsylvania.  In 
this  convention  he  had  differed  in  some  points  from 
the  majority  ;  but  when  the  articles  were  ultimately 
agreed  on,  he  said  to  his  colleagues,  "  We  ought  to 
have  but  one  opinion  3  the  good  of  our  country  requires 
that  the  resolution  should  be  unanimous,"  and  he 
signed. 

In  the  year  1787,  two  societies  were  established  in 
Philadelphia,  founded  on  the  principles  of  the  most  li- 
beral and  refined  humanity,  "  the  Philadelphia  Socie- 
ty, for  alleviating  the  miseries  of  public  prisons,'*  and 
"  the  Philadelphia  Society  for  promoting  the  abolition 
of  slavery,  the  relief  of  free  negroes  unlawfully  held 
in  bondage,  and  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of 
the  African  race.'*  Of  each  of  these  Dr.  Franklin 
was  president.  The  labours  of  these  bodies  have 
been  crowned  with  great  success  ;  and  they  continue 
to  prosecute,  with  unwearied  diligence,  the  laudable 
desjgns  for  which  they  were  established. 

His  name  as  president  of  the  Abolition  Society,  was 
signed  to  the  memorial  presented  to  the  House  of 
Representatives  of  the  United  States,  on  the  12th 
February,  1789,  pra\ing  them  to  exert  the  full  ex- 
tent of  powers  vested  m  them  by  the  constitution,  in 
discouraging  the  trafHc  of  the  human  species.  This 
was  his  last  public  act.  In  the  debates  to  which  this 
memorial  gave  rise,  several  attemps  were  made  to  jus- 
tify the  trade.  In  the  Federal  Gazette  of  March  25th 
there  appeared  an  essay,  signed  Historicus,  written  by 
Dr.  Franklin,  in  v/hich  he  communicated  a  speech, 
said  to  have  been  delivered  in  the  Divan  of  Algiers,  in 
1687,  in  opposition  to  the  prayer  of  the  petition  of  a 
sect  called  Erika  or  Purists,  for  the  abolition  of  piracy 
and  slavery.  This  pretended  African  speech  was  an 
excellent  parody  of  one  delivered  by  Mr.  Jackson  of 
Georgia.  All  the  arguments  urged  in  favor  of  negro 
slavery,  are  applied  with  equal  force  to  justify  the 


406  NEV/    BIOGRAPHICAL 

plundering  and  enslaving  of  Europeans.  It  affordj^, 
at  the  same  time,  a  demonstration  of  the  futility  of  the 
arguments  in  defence  of  the  slave  trade,  and  of  the 
strength  of  mind  and  ingenuity  of  the  author,  at  his 
advanced  period  of  life.  It  furnished  too,  a  no  less 
convincing  proof  of  his  power  of  imitating  the  style 
of  other  times  and  nations,  than  his  celebrated  parable 
against  persecution.  And  as  the  latter  led  many  per- 
sons to  search  the  scriptures  with  a  view  to  find  it,  so 
the  latter  caused  many  persons  to  search  the  book 
stores  and  libraries  for  the  work  from  which  it  was 
said  to  be  extracted. 

During  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  the  doctor  had 
been  very  healthy.  In  the  year  1735,  indeed,  he  was 
attacked  by  a  pleurisy,  which  ended  in  a  suppuration 
of  the  left  lobe  of  the  lungs,  so  that  he  was  almost  suf- 
focated by  the  quantity  of  matter  thrown  up.  But 
from  this,  as  well  as  another  attack  of  the  same  kind 
afterw^ards,  he  recovered  so  completely,  that  his  breath- 
ing was  not  affected  in  the  least.  As  he  advanced  in 
years,  however,  he  became  subject  to  fits  of  the  gout,, 
to  which,  in  the  year  1782,  a  nephritic  cholic  was 
superadded.  From  this  time,  he  became  subject  tQ 
the  stone  as  well  as  the  gout,  and  for  the  last  twelve 
months  of  his  life,  these  complaints  almost  entirely  con- 
fined him  to  his  bed.  Notwithstanding  his  distressed 
situation,  however,  neither  his  mental  abilities  nor  his 
natural  cheerfulness  ever  forsook  him.  His  memory 
was  tenacious  to  the  very  last ;  and  he  seemed  to  be 
an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  that,  at  a  certain 
period  of  life,  the  organs,  which  are  subservient  to 
memory  become  callous  -,  a  remarkable  instance  of 
which  is,  that  he  learned  to  speak  French  after  he  had 
attained  the  age  of  seventy.  About  sixteen  days  be- 
fere  his  death,  he  was  seized  with  a  feverish  indispo- 
sition without  any  particular  symptoms  attending  ir, 
till  the  third  or  fourth  day,  when  be  complained  of  a 
pain  in  his  left  breast,  which  encreased  till  it  be- 
came extremely  acute,  attended  v^itb  a  cough  and  la- 


I 


l^orious  breathing.  During  this  state,  when  the  seve- 
rity of  his  pains  sometimes  drew  forth  a  groan  of  com- 
plaint, he  would  observe,  that  he  was  afraid  he  did 
not  b^ar  them  as  he  ought ;  acknowledged  his  grate- 
ful sense  of  the  many  blessings  he  had  received  from 
the  Supreme  Being,  who  had  raised  him  from  small 
and  low  beginnings,  to  such  high  rank  and  considera- 
tion amongst  men  y  and  made  no  doubt  but  his  pre- 
sent afflictions  were  kindly  intended  to  wean  him  from 
a  world  in  which  he  was  no  longer  fit  to  act  the  part 
assigned  him.  In 'this  frame  of  body  and  mind  he 
continued  till  five  days  before  his  death,  when  his 
pain  and  diflSculty  of  breathing  entirely  left  him,  and 
his  family  were  flattering  themselves  with  the  hopes 
of  his  recovery,  when  an  imposthumation,  which  had 
formed  itself  in  his  lungs,  snddenly  burst  and  discharg- 
ed a  great  quantity  of  matter,  which  he  continued  to 
throvr  up  while  he  had  sufficient  strength  to  do  it ;  but 
as  that  failed,  the  organs  of  respiration  became  gra- 
dually oppressed  j  a  calm  lethargic  state  succeeded, 
and  on  the  17th  of  April,  1790,  about  eleven  o'clock 
at  night,  he  quietly  expired,  closing  a  long  and  use- 
ful life  of  eighty-four  years  and  three  months.  He 
made  various  bequests  and  donations,  to  cities,  pub- 
lic bodies  and  individuals,  of  which  we  shall  only  take 
notice  of  the  following,  as  it  tends  to  shew  that  high 
respect  which  he  entertained  for  the  character  of  the 
jate  immortal  Washington,  although  some  newspaper 
scriblers  have,  since  the  death  of  Franklin,  frequently 
insinuated  that  there  was  a  misunderstanding  be- 
tween these  two  illustrious  patriots  in  consequence  of 
a  difference  in  political  opinions.  "  My  fine  crab- 
tree  walking  stick,"  says  Dr.  Franklin,  in  his  will, 
"  with  a  gold  head,  curiously  v^Tought  in  the  form  of 
the  cap  of  Liberty,  I  give  to  my  friend,  and  the  friend 
of  mankind,  General  Washington.  If  it  were  a  scep- 
tre he  has  merited  it,  and  would  become  it."  Dr. 
Franklin  left  one  son.  Governor  AVilliam  Franklin  of 
New- Jersey,  a  zealous  royally,  and  a  daughter,  mar- 


40$  HEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ried  to  Mr.  William  Bache,  merchant,  in  Philadel- 
phia. 

Dr.  Franklin  was  author  of  many  tracts  on  electrici- 
ty, and  other  branches  ofnatural  philosophy,  as  well  as 
on  many  political  and  miscellaneous  subjects.  His 
jirst  publication,  in  1753,  was  entitled, "  Experiments 
and  Observations  on  Electricity,  made  at  Philadelphia, 
in  two  parts  4to.**  New  experiments  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, appeared  in  a  third  part,  the  following  year ;  and 
these  three  parts  with  the  addition  of  some  explanata- 
ry  notes,  and  of  "  Lettess  and  Papers  on  Philosophi- 
cal subjects,"  were  published  in  one  volume,  illustrat- 
ed with  copper-plates  in  1769.  In  1759,  he  publish- 
ed, without  his  name,  ''  An  Historical  View  of  the 
Constitution  and  Government  of  Pennsylvania,"  occa- 
sioned by  the  disputes,  which  had  long  subsisted  be- 
tween the  governor  and  assembly  of  that  province. 
In  1760,  he  published  an  anonymous  pamphlet,  en- 
titled, "  The  Interest  of  Great  Britain  considered 
with  respect  to  her  colonies,  and  the  acquisition  of 
Canada  and  Guadaloupe."  In  1779,  an  edition  ap- 
peared both  in  4to  and  Svo  of  his  "  Political,  Miscel- 
laneous and  Philosophical  pieces,'*  none  of  which 
had  beeen  collected  before.  The  aim  of  this  great 
man  was,  to  be  generally  useful.  His  advice  to  ser- 
vants, to  settlers  in  America,  his  rules  for  clubs  and 
conversation,  his  directions  for  the  cure  of  smoky 
chimneys,  &:c.  &c.  &:c.  abundantly  evince  that  he 
deemed  no  subject  too  humble  for  his  pen,  in  which 
it  was  possible  to  be  of  service. 

Dr.  Franklin,  likewise,  commenced  the  history  of 
his  own  life,  which  he  intended  for  his  son,  but  it 
reaches  no  farther  than  1757.  He  there  speaks  of 
himself,  as  he  would  have  done  of  another  person, 
delineating  his  thoughts,  his  actions,  and  even  his 
errors  and  foibles ;  and  he  describes  the  unfolding  of 
his  genius  and  talents,  with  the  simplicity  of  a  great 
man,  who  knows  how  to  do  justice  to  himself,  and 
with  the  testimony^  of  a  clear  conscience  void  of  re- 


DICTIONARY.  409 

proach.  In  short,  the  whole  life  of  Franklin,  his  me- 
ditations, his  labours,  were  all  directed  to  public  utili- 
ty ;  but  the  grand  object,  which  he  had  always  in  view 
did  not  shut  his  heart  against  private  friendship  ;  he 
loved  his  family,  his  friends,  and  was  extremely  bene- 
ficent. In  society  he  was  sententious,  but  not  fluent ; 
a  listener  rather  than  a  talker  ;  an  informing  rather 
than  a  facetious  companion.  Impatient  of  interruption, 
he  often  mentioned  the  custom  of  the  Indians,  who 
always  remain  silent  som.etime  before  they  give  an 
answer  to  a  question,  which  they  have  heard  atten- 
tively, unhke  some  of  the  most  polite  societies  in  ci- 
vilized life,  where  a  sentence  can  scarcely  be  finished 
without  interruption.  The  whole  time  of  his  life  was 
a  perpetual  lecture  against  the  idle,  the  extravagant 
and  the  proud.  It  was  his  principal  aim  to  inspire 
mankind  with  a  love  of  industry,  temperance  and 
frugality  ;  and  to  inculcate  such  duties  as  promote 
-the  important  interests  of  humanity.  By  a  judicious 
division  of  time,  he  acquired  the  art  of  doing  every 
thing  to  advantage  ;  in  the  midst  of  his  greatest  occu- 
pations for  the  liberty  of  his  country,  he  had  some 
physical  experiment  near  him  in  his  closet ;  and  the 
scierK:es  which  he  had  rather  discovered  than  studied, 
aflforded  him  a  continual  source  of  innocent  and  ra- 
tional pleasures. 

We  shall  conclude  this  memoir,  by  observing,  that 
such  was  the  opinion,  which  the  virtuous  and  intelli- 
gent part  of  mankind  entertained  for  the  wisdom,  pa- 
triotism and  philanthropy  of  this  exalted  character, 
that,  since  the  first  settlement  of  America^  no  death 
has  happened  in  it,  which  has  excited  so  universal 
regret  as  his,  except  that  of  his  late  illustrious  friend 
and  co-patriot,  the  immortal  Washington. 

Dr.  Franklin  wrote  the  following  epitaph  on  him- 
self, several  years  previous  to  his  deaths 

Vol.11.  No,  15,        F  3 


4-10  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

"  THE    BODY    OF 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN,  printer. 

(like  the  cover  of  an  old  book 

ITS  contents   torn  out, 

AND  STRIPT  OF   ITS  LETTERING  AND  GILDING,) 

LIES    HERE    FOOD    FOR    WORMS; 

YET   THE  WORK   ITSELF   SHALL   NOT    BE   LOST, 

BUT  WILL  (as  he  BELIEVED) 

APPEAR     ONCE    MORE 

IN    A    NEW 

AND  MORE   BEAUTIFUL    EDITION, 

CORRECTED   AND   AMENDED 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR." 

GALE,  (John)  an  eminent  and  learned  minister  a- 
inong  the  Baptists,  was  born  at  London,  in  1680. 
His  father  was  a  citizen  of  good  repute,  and  observ- 
ing the  natural  turn  of  his  son  to  be  from  his  infancy 
grave  and  composed,  he  resolved  to  breed  him  up  to 
the  pulpit.  He  spared  no  cost  in  his  education,  and 
-the  boy's  diligence  was  such,  that  he  became  not  only 
master  of  the  Greek  and  Latin,  but  also  of  the  He- 
brew language,  and  at  the  age  of  17,  he  was  sent  to 
Leyden,  to  finish  what  he  had  so  happily  begun. 

Jnthatuniversity,his  progress  in  academical  learning 
was  so  surprising,  that  he  was  thought  worthy  of  the 
degree  of  doctor  of  philosophy,  in  his  19th  year  ;  and 
accordingly  received  that  honor  in  1699,  having  per- 
formed the  usual  exercises  with  universal  applause. 
Upon  his  return  home,  he  resumed  his  studies  with 
equal  ardour  ;  and  improving  himself  particularly  in 
the  oriental  languages,  obtained  thereby  a  critical 
skill  in  the  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments. 
He  had  not  been  above  four  years  thus'  employed, 
"when  the  university  of  Leyden  sent  him  an  offer  of  a 
doctor^s  degree  in  divinity,  provided  he  would  assent 


DICTIONARY.  411 

to  the  articles  of  Dort ;  but  he  refused  that  honour  on 
the  principle  of  preserving  a  freedom  of  judgment. 
"  Wall's  Defence  of  Infant  Baptism,"  coming  out  in 
jess  than  two  years  after,  proved  an  occasion  of  Mr. 
Calebs  exerting  his  talents  in  several  letters,  written 
in  1705  and  1706;  and  they  were  handed  about  in 
manuscript  several  years,  'till  being  uniformly  com- 
mended by  all  who  saw  them,  he  consented  to  make 
them  public  in  171 1,  under  the  title  of,  *^  Reflections 
on  Mr.  Wall's  History  of  Infant  Baptism."  This 
perform.ance  is  reckoned  the  best  defence  of  the  Bap- 
tists ever  published,  and  the  perusal  of  it  induced  two 
famous  English  divines,  the  celebrated  Mr.  William 
Whiston  and  Dr.  James  Foster  to  become  Bap- 
tists. He  was  35  years  of  age  before  he  became  a 
constant  and  stated  preacher,  when  he  was  chosen 
minister  of  one  of  the  most  respectable  Baptist  con- 
gregations at  London,  where  his  preaching,  being 
chiefly  practical,  was  greatly  resorted  to  by  people  of 
all  persuasions.  Four  vols,  of  his  sermons  were  pub* 
lished  after  his  death,  which  happened  in  1721. 

GALEN,  (Claud  I  an)  prince  of  the  Greek  phy^ 
slcians  after  Hippocrates,  was  born  at  Pergamus  in 
the  Lesser  Asia,  about  A.  D.  131.  His  father,  who  was. 
possessed  of  a  considerable  fortune,  was  well  versed 
in  polite  literature,  philosophy,  astronomy  and  geome- 
t.'-y,  and  also  well  skilled  in  architecture.  He 
himself  instructed  his  son  in  the  first  rudiments  of 
learning,  and  afterwards  procured  him  the  greatest 
masters  of  the  age  in  philosophy  and  eloquence. — 
Galen,  having  finished  his  Gtwdies  under  their  care,, 
chose  physic  for  his  profession  and  chiefly  the. 
works  of  Hippocrates.  Having,  at  length,  exhausted 
all  the  sources  of  literature,  which  were  to  be  found 
at  home,  he  resolved  to  travel,  in  order  to  converser 
with  the  most  able  physicians  in  all  parts,  intendingj^ 
at  the  same  time,  to  take  every  opportunity  of  examifibr- 


412  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAIi 

ing  on  the  spot,  the  plants  and  drugs  of  the  countries, 
through  which  he  passed.  With  this  view  he  went 
to  Alexandria  in  Egypt,  and  tarried  some  years  in 
that  metropolis ;  from  thence  he  travelled  through 
Cilicia  ;  passed  through  Palestine  5  visited  the  Isles  l 
of  Crete  and  Cyprus,  and  made  two  voyages  to  Lem- 
nos,  in  order  to  examine  the  Lemnian  earth,  which 
was  then  esteemed  an  admirable  medicine.  With 
the  same  view,  he  went  into  the  Lower  Tyria,  in  or- 
der to  obtain  a  thorough  insight  into  the  nature  of  the 
opobalsamum  or  balm  of  Gilead  ;  and  having  com- 
pleted his  design,  returned  home  by  way  of  Alex- 
andria. 

He  was  now  only  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  yet 
had  made  some  considerable  advances  towards  im- 
proving his  art.  For  instance,  he  had  acquired  parti- 
cular skill  in  wounds  of  the  nerves  and  was  possessed 
of  a  method  of  treating  them  never  before  known. — 
The  pontiff  of  Pergamus  gave  him  an  opportunity  of 
trying  his  new  method  upon  the  gladiators,  and  he 
was  so  successful,  that  not  a  single  one  perished  by 
any  wounds  of  this  kind.  By  this  we  find,  as  well  as 
by  several  other  instances,  that  Galen  studied,  under- 
stood and  practised  surgery  as  well  as  physic. 

Galen  had  been  four  years  at  Pergamus,  where  his 
practice  was  attended  with  extraordinary  appJause, 
when  some  seditious  commotions  induced  him  to  go 
to  Rome,  where  he  settled  ;  but  the  proofs  he  gave 
of  his  superior  skill,  added  to  the  respect  shewn  him  by 
several  persons  of  very  high  rank,  created  him  so  ma- 
ny enemies  amongst  his  brethren  of  the  faculty,  that  he 
was  obliged  to  quit  the  city,  after  having  resided 
there  four  or  five  years.  But  he  had  not  long 
returned  to  Pergamus,  when  he  was  recalled  by  the 
emperor,  after  whose  decease,  he  returned  to  his  na- 
tive country^  where  he  died  about  the  year  200. 

He  was  a  man  endowed  with  excellent  parts ;  and 
having  the  advantage  of  the  best  education,  became 


©ICTIOHARY.  413 

not  only  a  great  physician,  but  also  a  great  philoso- 
pher, and  was  particularly  happy  in  a  facility  of  ex- 
pression and  an  unaffected  eloquence.  As  he  himself 
informs  us,  he  was  of  a  weak  and  delicate  constitu- 
tion, but  he  nevertheless^  by  his  temperance  and  skill 
in  physic,  arrived  to  a  great  age,  for  it  was  one  of  his 
maxims  always  to  rise  from  table,  with  some  degree 
of  appetite.  He  is  justly  considered  as  the  greatest 
physician  of  antiquity  next  to  Hippocrates  ;  and  he 
performed  such  surprising  cures,  that  he  was  accused 
of  magic. 

He  wrote  in  Greek;  and  is  said  to  have  composed 
two  hundred  volumes,  which  w^ere  unhappily  burnt  in 
the  temple  of  Peace.  The  best  editions  of  those, 
which  remain,  are  that  printed  at  Basil,  1533  in  5 
volumes,  and  that  of  Venice,  1625  in  7  volumes. 

GALILEI,  (Galileo)  the  famous  mathematician 
and  astronomer  was  the  son  of  a  Florentine  noble- 
man and  born  in  the  year  1564.  He  had  from  his 
infancy  a  strong  inclination  to  philosophy  and  the  ma- 
thematics, and  in  these  sciences,  he  made  prodigious 
progress.  In  1592,  he  was  appointed  professor  of 
mathematics  in  the  university  of  Padua  ;  previous  to 
which  he  had  acquired  great  celebrity  by  the  publi- 
cation of  his  "  Mechanics"  or  a  treatise  of  the  benefits 
derived  from  that  science,  and  from  its  instruments, 
together  with  a  fragment  concerning  Percussion  ;  as 
also  his  "  Balance,"  wherein  after  Archimedes's  pro- 
blem of  the  crown,  he  shewed  how  to  find  the  pro- 
portion of  alloy,  in  mixed  metals,  and  how  to  make 
the  said  instrument.  These  he  had  read  to  his  pupils 
at  his  first  coming  to  Padua,  in  1 593. 

Whilst  he  was  professor  at  Padua,  he  heard  that  in 
Holland,  there  had  been  invented  a  glass,  through 
which  very  distant  objects  were  seen  as  distinctly  as 
those  near  at  hand.  This  information  was  sufficient 
for  Galileo  :  his  curiosity  was  excited,  and  he  began 


414  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

to  consider  what  must  be  the  form  of  such  a  glass 
and  the  manner  of  making  it.  The  result  of  his  in- 
quiry was  the  invention  of  the  telescope,  produced 
from  this  hint,  without  having  seen  the  Dutch  glass,  r 
All  the  discoveries,  which  he  afterwards  made  in  ^ 
astronomy  were  easy  and  natural  consequences  of  this 
invention,  which  opening  a  way  into  the  heavens  till 
then  unknown,  thereby  gave  that  science  an  entirely 
new  face.  One  of  his  first  discoveries  was  four  of 
Jupiter's  satellites,  which  he  called  the  Medicean 
Stars  or  planets  in  honour  of  Cosmo  II,  Grand  Duke 
of  Tuscany,  who  was  of  that  noBle  family.  In  1611, 
Cosmo  sent  for  him  to  Pisa,  where  he  made  him  pro- 
fessor of  mathematics  with  a  handsom.e  salary  ;  and 
soon  after  inviting  him  to  Florence,  gave  him  the  of- 
fice and  title  of  principal  philosopher  and  mathemati- 
cian to  his  highness. 

Having  observed  some  solar  spots  in  1612,  he  print- 
ed that  discovery  at  Rome  the  following  year,  in  whick- 
and  in  some  other  pieces,  he  ventured  to  assert  the 
truth  of  the  Copernican  system,  and  brought  several 
new  arguments  to  confirm  it.  This  startled  the  Jes- 
uits,  who  thereupon  procured  a  citation  for  him  to  ap-  ^ 
pear  before  the  Holy  Office  at  Rome  in  1615  ;  where 
he  was  charged  with  heresy  for  maintaining  these  two 
propositions — 1st,  That  the  sun  is  the  centre  of  the 
world  and  immoveable  by  a  local  motion,  ancj  2d, 
That  the  earth  is  not  the  centre  of  the  world,  nor  im- 
moveable, but  actually  moves  by  a  diurnal  motion. 
The  first  of  these  positions  was  declared  to  be  absurd, 
false  in  philosophy  and  formally  heretical,  being  con- 
trary to  the  express  word  of  God  :  the  second  was 
also  alledged  to  be  philosophically  false,  and,  in  a 
theological  view,  at  least,  erroneous  in  point  of  faith. 
For  these  reasons  he  was  detained  in  the  Inquisition 
from  the  middle  of  the  year  1615,  till  the  25th  of 
February  following,  when  sentence  was  passed  against 
him,  whereby  he  was  enjoined  to  renounce  his  hereti- 


DICTIONARY,  415 

cal  opinions,  and  not  to  defend  them  either  by  word 
or  writing,  nor  even  to  insinuate  them  into  the  mind 
of  any  person  whatever,  and  he  obtained  his  discharge 
only  by  a  promise  to  conform  himself  to  this  order. — 
Galileo,  following  the  known  maxim,  that  forced 
oaths  and  promises  are  not  binding  on  the  conseience 
went  on  making  still  farther  new  discoveries  in  the 
planetary  system,  and  occasionally  publishing  thera 
with  such  inferences  and  remarks,  as  necessarily  fol- 
lowed from  them,  notwithstanding  they  tended  plain- 
ly to  establish  the  truth  of  the  above  mentioned  con- 
demned propositions. 

He  continued  to  act  in  this  manner  for  many  years, 
no  juridical  notice  being  taken  of  his  conduct,  till  the 
year  1632,  when  having  published  at  Florence  his 
"  Dialogues  of  the  two  greater  systems  of  the  world 
the  Ptolemaic  and  Copernican"  he  was  again  cited  be- 
fore the  Inquisition,  and  committed  to  the  prison  of 
that  ecclesiastical  court  at  Rome.  In  June  that  year, 
the  congregation  convened,  and  pronounced  sentence 
against  him  and  his  books,  by  which  he  was  obliged 
to  abjure  his  errors  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  com- 
mitted to  the  prison  of  their  office,  during  pleasure, 
and  enjoined  as  a  penance  for  three  years,  to  repeat 
once  a  week  the  seven  penitential  psalms  ;  reserving 
to  themselves,  however,  the  power  of  moderating, 
changing,  or  taking  away  altogether  or  in  part,  the 
above  mentioned  punishment  and  penance.  On  this 
sentence  he  was  detained  a  prisoner  till  1634,  and  his 
"  Dialogues  of  ^the  System  of  the  World"  were  burnt 
at  Rome. 

He  lived  ten  years  after  this,  seven  of  which  were 
employed  in  making  still  further  discoveries  with  his 
telescope  ;  but,  by  continuaj  application  to  that  in- 
strument, added  to  the  damage  he  had  received  in  his 
sight  from  the  nocturnal  air,  his  eyes  grew  gradually 
weaker  till  1639,  when  he  became  totally  blind.  He 
bore  this  calamity  with  patience  and  resignation,  wor- 


416  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


^ 


thy  of  a  philosopher,  and  devoting  himseh  to  constant 
meditations,  prepared  a  large  collection  of  materials  ; 
and  began  to  dictate  his  own  conceptions,  when,  by 
a  distemper  of  three  months  continuance,  which  wast- 
ed him  away  by  degrees,  he  expired  at  Arcetti,  near 
Florence,  January  8,  1642,  in  his  78th  year. 

He  was  the  author  of  several  useful  and  very  im- 
portant discoveries,  in  astronomy,  geometry  and  me- 
chanics, the  principal  of  which,  besides  these  men- 
tioned, arc,  in  the  first  of  these  sciences,  the  trepida- 
tion or  vibration  of  the  moon,  as  also  the  inequalities 
or  mountains  in  its  surface.  In  geometry  he  invented 
the  cycloid  or  trochoid ;  and  in  mechanics,  he  first 
found  the  exact  degree  of  celerity  in  the  descent  of 
bodies,  by  the  force  of  gravity  ;  to  which  may  be  add- 
ed the  machine  with  which  the  Venetians  render  the 
Laguna  fluid  and  navigable,  the  invention  whereof 
was  his.  He  wrote  a  great  num.ber  of  treatises,  se- 
veral of  which  were  published  in  a  collection  by  Sig- 
ner Mendessi,  under  the  title  of  "  L'Opera  di  Galileo 
Galilei  Lynceo."  Some  of  these,  with  other  of  his 
pieces  were  translated  into  English  and  published  by 
Thomas  Salisbury,  Esq.  in  his  mathematical  collec- 
tions in  two  volumes  folio.  A  volume  also  of  his  let- 
ters to  several  learned  men,  and  solutions  of"  several 
problems,  were  printed  at  Bologna  in  4to.  But  be- 
sides these,  he  wrote  many  others,  which  were  un- 
fortunately lost,  through  the  bigotry  and  superstition  of 
his  v^ife,  who,  being  solicited  by  her  confessor,  gave 
him  leave  to  peruse  her  husband's  m.anuscripts,  of 
which  he  tore  and  took  away  as  many  as  he  said  were 
not  fit  to  be  published. 

GARRICK,  (David)  the  British  Roscius,  who, 
for  near  forty  years,  shone  the  brightest  luminary  in 
the  hemisphere  of  the  stage,  was  born  at  an  inn,  in 
Hereford,  in  thp  year  1716.  His  father  Captain  Peter 
Garrick  commanded  a  troop  of  horse,  which  were  then 


DICTIONARY.  417 

quartered  in  that  city,  and  his  grand-father  was  a 
French  nfierchant,  who,  being  a  protestant  had  fled  to 
England  as  an  asylum  upon  the  revocation  of  the  edict 
of  5Tantz,  in  16S5. 

Young  Garrick  was,  at  ten  years  of  age,  sent  to  the 
grammar  school  at  Litchfield,  but,  though  remark- 
able for  his  dislike  to  puerile  diversions,  he  was  by  no 
means  remarkable  for  assiduity  in  his  application  to 
his  studies.  Being  sprightly  and  frolicsome,  he  had 
conceived  an  early  passion  for  theatrical  represent- 
ation ;  and  at  little  more  than  1 1  years  of  age,  pro- 
cured "  The  Recruiting  Officer,"  to  be  acted  by 
young  gentlemen  and  ladies,  himself  performing  the 
part  of  Sergeant  Kite.  Not  long  after,  he  went  on  an 
invitation  to  a  wine  merchant,  at  Lisbon,  but  return- 
ing shortly  to  Litchfield,  he  was  again  sent  to  the  gram- 
mar school,  where,  however,  he  still  continufd  to  make 
but  little  progress  in  learning. 

Doctor  Samuel  Johnson  and  he  were  fellow  students 
at  the  same  school  j  and  it  is  a  curious  fact,  that  these 
two  geniuses  came  up  to  London  with  an  intention  of 
pushing  themselves  into  active  life,  in  the  same  stage 
coach.  On  the  9th  of  March  1736,  he  was  entered 
at  Lincoln's  Inn.  He  soon,  however,  relinquished  the 
study  of  law,  and  followed  for  some  time  the  employ- 
ment of  a  wine  merchant  j  but  that  too  disgusting 
him,  he  gave  way  at  last  to  the  irresistible  bias  of  his 
mind,  and  determined  to  enter  on  the  stage. 

His  diffidence  withholding  him  from  trying  his 
strength,  at  first,  upon  the  London  theatre,  he 
commenced  noviciate  with  a  company  of  players, 
then  ready  to  set  cut  for  Ipswich,  in  the  summer  of 
1741.  The  first  efix)rt  of  his  theatrical  talents  was  ex- 
erted in  the  character  of  Aboan  in  Oroonoko,  and  was 
successful  equal  to  his  most  sanguine  desires.  Under 
the  assumed  name  of  Lyddel,  he  not  only  acted  a  va- 
riety of  characters  in  plays,  but,  likewise,  attempted 
the  active  feats  of  the  Harlequin,  and  was  in  every 
essay  gratified  with  the  most  unbounded  applause. 

Vol.  II.  No.  15.         G  3 


41S  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

Having  in  this  poor  school  of  Apollo,  got  some  ac- 
quaintance with  the  theatric  art,  and  taken  all  the  ne- 
cessary steps  for  a  London  Stage,  he   made  his  first 
appearance,  at  the  little  theatre,  in  Goodman's  Fields, 
October  19th,  1741,  when  he  performed  Richard  III. 
His  excellence  dazzled  and  astonished  every  one.  Indeed 
the  seeing  a  young  man,  in  no  more  than  his  twenty- 
fourth  year,  and  a  novice  in  reality  to  the  stage,  reach- 
ing at  one  single   step  to  that  height  of  perfection, 
which  maturity  of  years  and  long  practical  experience 
had  not  been  able  to  bestow  on  the  then  capital  per- 
formers of  the  English  stage,  was  a  phenomenon, 
^hich  could  not  but  become  the  object  of  universal 
admiration.  The  more  established  theatres  of  Covent 
Garden  and  Drury  Lane  were  deserted ;  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  court-end  of  the  town  were  drawn  after 
him,  and  Goodman's  Fields,  from  being  the  rendez- 
vous oi  persons  in  inferior  stations,  became  the  resort 
of  people  of  all  ranks  and  denominations,   as  Mr. 
Garrick  continued  to  act  till  the  close  of  the  season. 
Having  very  advantageous  terms  offered  him  for  the 
performing  in  Dublin,  during  some  part  of  the  sum- 
mer of  1741,  he   went  over  thither,  where  he  found 
the  same  homage  paid  to  his  merit,  w^hich  he  had  re- 
ceived from  his  own  countrymen.     To  the  service  of 
the  latter,  however,  he  esteemed  himself  more  im- 
mediately bound  ;  and,  therefore,  in  the  ensuing  win- 
ter engaged  himself  to  Mr.  Fleetwood,  then  manager 
of  Drury  Lane,  in  which  theatre  he  continued  till  the 
year  1745,  when  he  again  went  over  to  Ireland,  and 
remained  there  the  whole  season,  joint  manager  with 
Mr.  Sheridan  in  the  direction  and  profits  of  the  thea- 
tre royal.     From  thence  he  returned  to  England,  and 
was  engaged  for  the  season  of  1746,  at  Covent  Gar- 
den.    This  was  his  last  performance  as  an  hired  ac- 
tor;  for,  in  the  close  oi  that  season,  Mr.  Fleetwood's 
patent  for  the  management  of  Drury  Lane  having  ex- 
pired, and  that  gentleman  having  no  inclination  fur- 
ther to  pursue  a  design,  by  which,  from  his  want  of 


DICTIONARY,  4l3^ 

acquaintance  with  the  proper  conduct  of  it,  or  some 
other  cause,  he  had  considerably  impaired  his  fortune, 
Mr.  Garrick,  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Lacy,  purchased 
the  property  of  that  theatre  together  with  the  renova- 
tion of  the  patent ;  and,  in  the  winter  of  1747,  open- 
ed it  with  the  greatest  part  of  Mr.  Fleetwood's  com- 
pany, and,  with  the  great  addition  of  Mr.  Barry,  Mrs, 
Prichard,  and  Mrs.  Gibber  from  Covent  Garden. 

Were  we  to  trace  Mr.  Garrick  through  the  several 
occurrences  of  his  life — a  life  so  active,  so  busy  and 
so  full  of  occurrence  as  his,  we  should  swell  thi^  ac- 
count far  beyond  our  limits.  Suffice  it  to  say,  he  con- 
tinued in  the  unmolested  enjoyment  of  his  fame  and 
unrivalled  excellence  to  the  moment  of  his  retirement. 
His  universality  of  excellence  was  never  once  attack- 
ed by  competition.  Tragedy,  comedy  and  farce,  the 
lover  and  the  hero,  the  jealous  husband,  and  the 
thoughtless  lively  rake  were  all  alike  his  own.  Rage 
and  ridicule,  doubt  and  despair,  transport  and  tender- 
ness, compassion  and  contempt :  love,  jealousy,  fear, 
fury  and  simplicity:  all  alternately  took  possession  of  his 
features,  while  each  of  them  in  turn  appeared  to  be 
the  sole  possessor  of  his  heart.  In  short,  nature,  the 
mistress,  from  whom  alone  this  great  performer  bor- 
rowed all  hislessons,  being  in  herself  inexhaustible,  this 
her  darling  son  marked  out  for  her  truest  representa- 
tive, found  an  unlimited  scope  for  change  and  diver- 
sity in  his  manner  of  copying  from  her  various  pro- 
ductions. But  there  is  one  part  of  theatrical  conductj^ 
which  ought  unquestionably  to  be  recorded  to  Mr. 
Garrick's  honour,  since  the  cause  of  virtue  and  morali- 
ty and  the  formation  of  public  manners,  arc  consider- 
ably dependent  upon  it,  and  that  is,  the  zeal,  with 
which  he  aimed  to  banish  from  the  stage  all  those 
plays,  w^hich  carry  with  them  an  immoral  tendency, 
and  to  prune  from  those,  which  do  not  absolutely,  on 
the  whole,  promote  the  interests  of  vice,  such  scenes 
of  licentiousness,  as  a  redundancy  of  wit,  and  too 
great  livehness  of  imagination  have  induced  some 


420  '     NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


I 


comic  writers  to  indulge  themselves  in,  and  to  which 
the  sympathetic  disposition  of  our  age  of  gallantry  and 
intrigue  has  given  too  great  sanction.  The  purity 
the  English  stage  was  certainly  much  more  fully  esta- 
blished, during  the  administration  of  this  theatrical 
minister,  than  it  had  ever  been  during  preceding 
managemenrs.  He  seems  to  have  carried  his  modest, 
moral,  and  chaste  principles  with  him  into  the  very 
management  of  the  theatre  itself,  and  rescued  per- 
formers from  that  obloquy,  v;hich  had  too  long  stuck 
on  the  profession.  Of  those,  who  were  accounted 
blackguards,  and  unworthy  of  the  association  of  the 
world,  he  made  gentlemen,  united  them  with  society, 
and  introduced  them  to  all  the  domestic  comforts  of 
life.  The  theatre  was  no  longer  esteemed  the  recep- 
tacle of  all  vice ;  and  the  moral,  the  serious  part  of 
mankind,  did  not  hesitate  to  partake  the  entertain- 
ment of  a  play,  and  pass'B  cheerful  evening  undis- 
gusted  with  the  licentiousness,  and  uncorrupted  by  the 
immorality  of  the  exhibition. 

•  Notwithstanding  the  numberless  and  laborious 
avocations  attendant  on  his  profession  as  an  actor, 
and  his  station  as  a  m^anager ;  yet  still  his  active  genius 
was  perpetually  bursting  forth  in  various  little  pro- 
ductions in  the  dramatic  and  poetical  way,  whose 
merit  cannot  but  make  us  regret  his  want  of  time  for 
the  pursuance  of  more  extensive  and  important  works. 
It  is  certain,  that  his  merit  as  an  author  is  not  of  the 
first  magnitude  3  but  his  great  knowledge  of  men  and 
manners,  of  stage  effect,  and  his  happy  turn  for  lively 
and  striking  satire,  made  him  generally  successful  ; 
and  his  prologues  and  epilogues  in  particular,  which 
are  almost  innumerable,  possess  such  a  degree  of  hap- 
piness both  in  the  conception  and  execution  as  to 
stand  unequalled.  His  Ode  on  Shakspeare  is  a  mas* 
terly  piece  of  poetry  ;  and  when  delivered  by  himself 
was  a  most  capital  exhibition.  His  alterations  of 
Shakespeare  and  other  authors  have  been  at  times  suc- 
cessful and  at  times  exploded.    Among  his  alterations. 


DICTIOKARY,  421 

the  following  are  part—"  Every  Man  in  his  Humour" 
altered  from  Ben.  Johnson  :  "  Romeo  and  Juliet  ;'* 
"Winter's  Tale;"  Catharine  and  Petruchio ;"  "  Ham- 
let," &c.  altered  and  made  up  from  Shakespeare  : 
"  Gamester,"  a  comedy  from  Shirley,  and  "Isabella" 
from  Southeme.  To  these  we  may  add,  as  original 
productions  "  The  Farmer's  Return"  and  "  Linco's 
Travels"  interludes  5  "  Guardian,"  "  Lethe,"  "  Lying 
Valet,"  "  Miss  in  her  Teens,"  "  Male  Coquet," 
"  Irish  Widow,"  and  other  comedies  in  two  acts  ; 
"  Enchanter,"  a  musical  entertainment  "  Lilliput," 
and  many  others; 

We  now  bring  him  to  the  period  of  his  retirement 
in  the  spring  of  1776,  when  full  of  fame,  with  the  ac- 
quirement of  a  splendid  fortune  :  and  growing  into 
years,  he  thought  proper  to  seek  the  vale  of  life  to  en- 
joy that  dignified  and  honourable  ease,  which  was 
compatible  with  his  public  situation,  and  which  he 
bad  so  well  earned  by  the  activity  and  the  merits  of 
his  dramatic  reign.  Upon  his  leaving  the  stage,  he 
disposed  of  his  moiety  of  the  patent  to  Messrs.  Sheri- 
dan, Linley  and  Ford  for  155,400  dollars,  but  did  not 
live  long  to  enjoy  the  retirement,  which  he  sought,  as 
he  died  the  20th  January,  1779. 


GAY,  (John)  a  celebrated  English  poet,  was  born 
at  Exeter  1688,  and  received  his  education  at  the  free- 
school  in  that  county,  where  he  acquired  a  considera-  ' 
ble  taste  for  literature.  This  was  all  the  education 
he  had,  for  the  estate  of  his  family  being  greatly  re- 
duced, his  fortune  was  not  sufficient  to  support  him 
as  a  gentleman,  and,  therefore,  his  friends  chose  to 
breed  him  up  to  some  genteel  business.  He  was,  ac- 
cordingly, put  apprentice  to  a  silk  mercer  in  London; 
but  this  step  was  taken  without  coiisulting  the  youth's 
taste  or  inclination.  The  shop  soon  became  his  aver- 
sion ;  he  was  seldom  in  it,  and  in  a  few  years,  his 
master,  upon  the  offer  of  a  small  consideration,  con- 


422  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


sented  to  give  up  his  indentures.  Having  thus  pur-  ] 
ehased  the  ease  of  his  mind,  he  indulged  himself  free-  ; 
]y  in  that  course  of  life,  to  which  he  w^as  irresistibly  : 
drawn  by  nature.  Poetry  was,  at  once,  his  delight 
and  his  talent,  and  he  suffered  not  his  muse  to  be  dis- 
turbed by  any  disagreeable  attention  to  the  expence  ^ 
of  cultivating  it. 

These  qualities  recommended  him  to  such  compa- 
ny and  acquaintance  as  he  most  affected,  and  among 
others,  to  Swift   and   Pope,  who  were  exceedingly 
struck  with  the  open  sincerity  and  easiness  of  his  tem«  '■ 
per.     To  this  last  gentleman  he  addressed  the  first 
fruits  of  his  muse,  entitled  "  Rural  Sports,  a  Georgic,"  ^ 
printed  in  1711.     This  piece  discovered  a  rich  poeti- 
cal  vein  peculiar  to  himself,  and   met   with   some 
agreeable   attestations  of  its  merit,  that  would  have 
been  enjoyed  with  a  higher  relish,  had  not  the  plea- 
sure been  interrupted  by  the  ill  state  of  his  finances, 
which,  by  an  uncommon  degree  of  thoughtlessness, 
were  now  reduced  to  a  very  low  ebb.     Our  poet's 
purse  was  an  unerring  barometer  to  his  spirits,  which, 
sinking  with  it,  left  him  in  the  apprehension  of  a  ser-  ^ 
vile  dependence,  a  condition  he  dreaded  above  any  j| 
thing,  which  could  befall  him.    The  clouds,  however, 
were  shortly  dispelled  by  the  kindness  of  the  duchess  j 
of  Monmouth,  who  appointed  him  her  secretary  in  | 
1712,  with  a  handsome  salary.     This  seasonable  fa- 
vour seating  him  in  a  coach,  though  not  his  own,  kin- 
dled his  muse  into  a  new  pregnancy.     He  first  pro- 
duced his  celebrated  poem  called,  "  Trivia,  or  the^- 
Art  of  walking  the  Streets,''  and  the  following  year, 
at  the  instance  of  Mr.  Pope,  he  formed  the  plan  of 
his  "  Pastorals."     This  exquisite  piece  was  publish-  | 
cd  in  1714,  with  a  dedication  to  lord  Bolingbroke.      I 

The  most  promising  views  now  opened  to  him  at  i 
court ;  he  w^as  caressed  by  some  leading  persons  in  ■ 
the  ministry,  and  his  patroness  rejoiced  to  see  him:  ^ 
taken  from  her  house  to  attend  the  earl  of  Clarendon,:  1 
ag  secretary  in  his  embassy  to  the  court  of  Hanover^ 


DICTIONARY.  1.25 

the  same  year.  But  whatever  were  his  hopes  from 
this  new  advancement,  it  is  certain  they  began  and 
ended  almost  together,  for  Queen  Anne  died  in  fif- 
teen days  after  their  arrival  at  Hanover.  This,  how- 
ever, did  not  prove  an  irreparable  loss ;  his  present 
situation  made  him  personally  known  to  the  sacceed- 
ing  royal  family  j  and,  returning  home,  he  made  a 
proper  use  of  it,  in  a  handsome  compliment  to  the 
Princess  of  Wales,  on  her  arrival  in  England.  This 
address  procured  him  a  favourable  admittance  at  the 
new  court,  and  that  raising  a  new  flow  of  spirits,  he 
wrote  hisfarce,  entitled,  "the  What  d  ye  Call  it,"  which 
appeared  upon  the  stage  before  the  end  of  the  season?. 
The  profits  of  this  performance  brought  some  useful 
recruits  to  his  finances,  and  his  poetical  merit  being 
endeared  by  the  sweetness  and  sincerity  of  his  nature^ 
procured  him  an  easy  access  to  persons  of  the  first  di^-^' 
tinction.  In  17 1 6,  he  made  a  visit  to  his  native  coun- 
ty, at  the  expence  of  lord  Burlington,  and  repaid  his 
lordship  with  a  humorous  account  of  the  journey. 
The  like  return  was  made  for  Mr.  Poultney's  favourit 
who  took  him  in  his  company  the  following  year  t& 
Aix  in  France.  ^ 

This  jaunting  about  with  some  decent  appointment, 
was  one  of  the  highest  gratifications  of  Mr.  Gay's  life, 
and  never  failed  of  calling  forth  his  muse.  Soon  af- 
ter his  return  to  France,  he  introduced  to  the'  stage, 
''The  Three ^Hours  after  Marriage."  His  friends. 
Pope  and  Arbuthnot  had  both  a  hand  in  this  perform- 
ance, and  the  two  principal  characters  were  acted  by 
two  of  the  best  comedians  at  that  time;  yet  with  all 
these  advantages,  it  was  condemned  the  first  night. 
Gay  supported  this  with  an  unusual  degree  of  magna- 
nimity, which  seems  to  have  been  inspired  by  a  hear- 
ty regard  for  his  partners,  especially  Pope,  who  was 
greatly  affected  with  it.  In  1720,  he  again  recruited 
his  purse  by  a  handsome  subscription  to  his  poems, 
which  he  collected  and  published  in  2  vols.  4to ;  but 
falling  into  the  general  infatuation  of  that  remarkable 


4124  ^EW  BIOGRAPKICAi; 


1 


year,  he  lost  all  his  fortune  in  the  South  Sea  scheme, 
and  consequently  all  his  spirits.  Indeed  this  stroke 
had  almost  proved  fatal  to  him;  he  was  seized  with  a 
violent  cholic,  and,  after  languishing  some  time,  re- 
moved in  1722,  to  Hempstead  for  the  benefit  of  the 
waters ;  but,  by  the  assistance  of  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  who 
constantly  attended  him,  he  at  length  recovered. 
Soon  after  thrs,  he  finished  his  tragedy  called  "  The 
Captives,''  which  he  had  the  honour  of  reading  fron\ 
MS.  to  the  Princess  of  Wales  in  1724.  Her  royal 
highness  also  promised  him  further  marks  of  her  favor, 
if  he  would  write  some  Fables  in  verse  for  the  use  of 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  which  task  he  accordingly 
undertook,  and  published  them  in  1726,  with  a  dedi- 
cation to  that  prince. 

From  the  countenance  now  shewn  to  him  and  num 
berless  promises  of  preferment,  it  was  reasonable  to 
suppose,  that  he  would  have  been  genteelly  provided 
for  in  some  office  suitable  to  his  inclination  and  abili- 
ties. Instead  of  which,  he,  in  1727,  was  offered  the 
place  of  gentleman  usher  to  one  of  the  youngest  prin- 
cesses, an  office,  w^hich,  as  he  looked  on  it  rather  as 
an  indignity  to  a  man,  whose  talents  might  have  been 
so  much  better  employed,  he  thought  proper  to  re» 
fuse.  Mr.  Gay's  dependencies  on  the  promises  of  the| 
great,  and  the  disappointments  he  so  often  met  with! 
from  that  quarter  are  figuratively  described  in  his  ele-l 
gant  fable  of  the  "  Hare  with  many  friends."  How-* 
ever,  the  very  extraordinary  success  he  met  with  from 
public  encouragement,  made  an  ample  amends,  both 
with  respect  to  satisfaction  and  emoluments  for  those 
private  disappointments.  For  he  immediately  wrote 
"  The  Beggar's  Opera,"  which,  being  brought  upon 
the  stage,  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1727,  was  re- 
ceived with  greater  applause  than  had  ever  been 
known  on  any  previous  occasion.  There  is  scarcely 
to  be  found  in  history  an  example,  where  a  private 
subject,  undistinguished  either  by  birth  or  fortune, 
had  it  in  his  power  to  feast  his  resentment  so  richly 


DtCTlONAUV*  425 

^l  the  expence  of  his  sovereign.  Btit  this  was  not  all 
— he  went  on  in  tlie  same  humour,  and  cast  a  second 
part  in  the  hke  fasliioned  mould,  which,  being  ex- 
chidex^  from  the  stage  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  he 
was  encouraged  to  print  with  the  title  of  "  Polly"  by 
subscription  ;  and  this  too,  considering  the  powers 
employed  against  it,  was  incredibly  large.  Neither 
did  it  end  here.  The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Queens- 
bury  took  part  in  resenting  the  indignity  put  upon  him 
by  this  I'ast  act  of  power,  resigned  their  respective 
places  at  court,  took  our  author  into  their  house 
and  family,  and  treated  him  with  all  the  endearing 
kindnesses  of  an  intimate  and  much  beloved  friend. 

Mr.  Gay  wrote  several  other  pieces  in  the  dramatic 
Way,  and  many  very  valuable  ones  in  verse.  Among 
the  latter  his  "  Trivia,"  though  his  first  poetical  at- 
tempt, is  far  from  being  the  least  considerable  and  is 
what  recommended  him  to  the  esteem  and  friendship 
of  Mr.  Pope  ;  and,  as  amongst  his  dramatic  works, 
his  Beggar's  Opera,  did,  at  first  and  perhaps  ever  will 
stand  as  an  unrivalled  master-piece,  so  amongst  hfs 
poetical  works  his  *'  Fables"  hold  the  same  rank  of 
estimation,  the  latter  having  been  almost  universal!}' 
read  as  the  former  was  represented  and  both  equally- 
admired. 

Mr.  Gay*s  disposition  was  sweet  and  affable,  his 
temper  generous,  and  his  conversatron  agreeable  and 
entertaining.  But  he  had  one  foible  too  frequently 
incident  to  men  of  great  literary  abilities,  and  which 
subjected  him  at  times  to  inconveniences,  wjiich 
otherwise  he  needed  not  to  have  experienced,  viz.  an 
excess  of  indolence,  without  any  knowledge  of  econo- 
my. So  that,  though  his  emoluments  were,  at  some 
periods  of  his  life,  very  considerable,  he  was  at  others 
greatly  straitened  in  his  circumstances  ;  nor  could  he 
prevail  on  himself  to  follow  the  advice, of  his  friend 
Dean  Swift,  whom  we  find  in  many  of  his  letters  en- 
deavouring to  persuade  him  to  the  purchase  of  an  an- 
nuity, as  a  reserve  for  the  exigences,   which  might  at- 

VoL.  II.  No.  15.        H  3 


426  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

tend  an  old  age.  Mr.  Gay  chose  rather  to  throw  him- 
self on  patronage  than  secure  to  himself  an  indepen- 
dent competency  by  the  means  pointed  out  to  him,  so 
that,  after  having  undergone  many  vicissitudes  of  for- 
tune, and  being  for  some  time  chiefly  supported  by 
the  liberality  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Queensbu- 
ry,  he  died  at  their  house  in  Dec.  1732,  and  was  bu- 
ried in  Westminster  Abbey  with  this  epitaph,  written 
hy  himself,  engraved  on  his  tomb  : — 

"  Life  is  a  jest,  and  all  things  show  it ; 

"  1  thought  so  once  ;  but  now  I  know  it.'* 

GESNER,  (SoLOMoi-j)  the  celebrated  author  of 
the  death  of  Abel,  and  many  other  admired  works  in 
the  German  language,  was  born  at  Zurich  in  the  year 
1730.  In  his  earlier  years  he  shewed  very  few 
signs  of  superior  abilities;  and  his  progress  in  the  ru- 
diments of  education  was  so  slow,  that  his  master 
gave  him  up  as  incapable  of  any  greater  attainments 
than  writing  and  the  four  first  rules  of  arithmetic. 
Upon  this,  he  was  placed  under  a  clergyman  in  the 
neighbourhood,  who  shewed  himself  better  acquaint- 
ed with  the  art  of  discovering  the  natural  inclination 
of  his  pupils.  This  gentleman  often  carried  young 
Gesner  with  him  into  the  fields,  where  he  made  him 
observe  the  beauties  of  nature  ;  and  finding,  that  he 
took  great  pleasure  in  such  lessons,  and  seemed  to 
jisten  to  them  with  peculiar  attention,  he  occasional- 
ly repeated  some  of  the  most  striking  passages  of  the 
ancient  authors,  who  have  written  on  those  subjects 
in  the  most  agreeable  and  pleasing  manner.  By  this 
ingenious  artifice,  the  mind  of  young  Gesner  began 
to  open,  and  its  powers  to  expand,  and  it  is,  per- 
haps, owing  to  this  circumstance,  that  he  became  so 
fond  of  the  language  of  Virgil  and  Theocritus.  When 
he  arrived  at  a  proper  age  to  think  of  pursuing  some 
line  of  business,  Mr.  Gesner  made  choice  of  that  of 
a  bookseller,  which  was  the  profession  of  his  father^, 


'  DICTIONARY.  427 

and  In  some  measure  of  his  family.  Of  five  houses  at 
Zurich,,  in  the  bookselling  and  printing  business,  two 
were  occupied  by  Gesners,  one  of  which  belonged  to 
two  brothers  of  that  name;  and  the  latter,  in  which 
our  poet  was  a  partner,  was  known  by  the  firm  of 
Ore],  Gesner.  and  Fusefi.  It  was  known  also  by 
the  extent  of  its  correspondence,  and  by  the  choice 
and  elegance  of  the  works  which  it  gave  the  public. 

But  Gesner's  engagements  in  trade  did  not  prevent 
the  exertions  of  his  genius.  He  indulged  his  favour- 
ite pursuits  with  freedom,  and  his  partners  had  too 
much  good  sense  to  murmur  at  the  time,  which  he 
devoted  to  his  writings.  In  1752,  he  made  a  lour 
through  Germany,  not  so  much  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
tending his  commercial  connections,  as  to  see  and  be 
acquainted  with  those  authors,  who  have  done  honor 
to  their  country.  The  following  circumstance,  which 
occurred  during  this  tour,  deserves  to  be  mentioned, 
as  it  is  strickingly  characteristic  of  that  timidity,  which 
often  accompanies  true  genius.  When  Mr.  Gesner 
was  at  Berlin,  he  w^as  admitted  into  a  literary  society, 
of  which  Gleim  and  Lessing  were  members,  Each 
of  the  authors,  who  composed  it,  used  to  read  in  turn 
some  piece  of  their  own  composition,  and  Mr.  Ges- 
ner was  very  desirous  of  submitting  to  those  able  cri- 
tics a  small  work,  which  was  his  first  attempt :  but 
he  was  far  from  resembling  those  poets,  whom  Ho- 
race and  other  satyrists  have  ridiculed,  and  who  stun 
every  one  they  meet  with  by  reciting  their  verses  be- 
fore them.  As  each  of  the  members  had  done  read- 
ing, Gesner  was  observed  to  move  his  hand  with  a 
kind  of  tremor  towards  his  pocket,  and  to  draw  it 
back  again  without  the  manuscript,  which  he  ought 
to  have  produced.  Having  never  as  yet  published 
any  thing,  none  of  the  company  could  imagine  the 
cause  of  a  motion,  which  his  modesty  prevented  hini 
irom  explaining.  The  work,  which  he  liad  not  the 
courage  to  shew  was  his  small  poem,  entitled  "Night," 
which  he  published  on  his  return  to  Zurich   in  1753;, 


428  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


and  of  which  ther^  are  no\v  three  different  translations 
in  French.:  'The  success  of  this  first  essay,  encou- 
raged the  timid  muse  of  our  young  bookseller,  and 
he  published,  almost  at  the  same  time,  a  pastoral  ro- 
mance, called  "  Daphnis/*  and  a  continuation  of  the 
celebrated  story  of  Inkle  and  Yarico. 

Of  this  affecting  tale,  which  originally  appeared  in 
"  the  Spectator,"  Gellert  had  written  a  poetical  ver- 
sion in  the  German  language.  Bodmer  too  had  fin-- 
ished  a  tale  on  the  same  subject,  and  had  formed  a 
plan  for  the  continuation  of  it,  in  which,  indignant 
as  he  was  to  see  innocence  sacrificed  to  avarice,  and 
villainy  unpunished,  he  intended  to  bring  the  story  to 
a  conclusion  conformable  to  the  rules  of  strict  poeti- 
cal jusiice.  Our  poet  pursued  the  plan  of  Bodmer  in 
his  poem  of  "  Incle  and  Yarico."  This  indeed  is  on- 
ly a  second  part,  in  which  he  describes  the  penitence 
of  Incle  and  the  happy  deliverance  of  Yarico. 

The  success  of  our  young  bookseller  in  these  at- 
tempts emboldened  his  too  timid  muse,  and  he  pub- 
lished a  pastoral  romance  called  "  Daphnis"  in  three 
cantos.  The  applause,  which  w^as deservedly  bestow- 
ed upon  this  performance,  induced  the  author  to  pub- 
lish  some  time  after,  his  *'  Idylls,"  and  some  other  ru- 
ral poems,  in  imitation  of  those  of  Theocritus.  Pas- 
toral poetry,  which,  at  this  time,  was  little  known  in 
Germany,  but  by  translations  from  foreign  poets,  be- 
gan to  find  many  partizans,  and  to  be  preferred  to 
every  other  kind.  Desirous,  therefore,  ot  tracing  out 
a  new  path  for  himself,  our  poet  thought  that  he  could 
not^do  a  more  acceptable  service  to  his  countrymen, 
than  to  paint  the  felicity  of  innocence  and  rural  life, 
and  the  tender  emotions  of  love  and  gratitude.  The 
only  author  worthy  of  notice,  who  had  precceded  Mr. 
Gesner  in  this  career,  was  Mr.  Rost  of  Leipsic,  in 
1744.  This  writer  polished  the  language  of  the  Ger- 
jnan  shepherds  :  he  had  address  enough  to  unite  spirit 
and  simplicity  in  a  kind  of  writing,  which  appears 
jasipid  without  the  former,  and  which  becomes  unna- 


DICTLONARY.  429 

tural  and  disgusting;,  if  it  is  too  abundant.  He  some- 
times throws  a  delicate  veil  over  those  images,  which 
are  deficient  in  decency,  but  it  is  to  be  regretted,  that 
it  is  often  too  slight.  Such  was  the  antagonist  against 
whom  Gesner  had  to  contend.  Our  poet,  however, 
pursued  a  different  course.  Instead  of  placing  like 
Rost,  his  scenes  in  modern  times,  he  goes  back  with 
Theocritus  to  the  golden  age,  that  happy  age,  which  we 
are  fond  of  reviewing  when  our  passions  are  calm  and 
when  freed  from  those  anxious  cares,  which  hurry  us 
beyond  ourselves,  we  contemplate  amidst  tranquility, 
the  beauties  and  fertility  of  the  country.  The  charac- 
ter of  Gesner's  Idylls,  therefore,  are  taken  from  those 
societies,  which  exist  no  longer,  but  in  the  remem- 
brance or  rather  the  imagination.  His  shepherds  are 
fathers,  children  and  husbands,  who  blush  not  at  these 
titles  so  dear  to  nature,  and  to  whom  generosity,  be- 
nevolence and  respect  for  the  Deity,  are  sometimes 
no  less  familiar  than  love.  These  Idylls  were  the 
principal  and  favourite  object  of  his  pursuit,  and  that 
part  of  his  work,  which  acquired  him  the  greatest  re- 
putation, especially  among  his  countrymen. 

His  '*' Death  of  Abel,"  which  is  well  known,  was 
published,  for  the  first  time,  in  175B.  This  is  an  epic 
poem  in  five  books,  which  unites  in  the  mest  affecting 
manner,  a  kind  of  religious  majesty,  with  the  simpli- 
city of  pastoral  life.  It  is  impossible  for  a  young  mind 
uncontaminated  by  the  vi^orld,  to  read  this  excellent 
work  w^ithout  being  inspired  with  a  more  fervent  sense 
ot  piety,  and  a  more  animating  love  of  virtue.  It 
must  be  confessed,  however,  that  the  chief  excellence 
oF  this  poem  consists  in  the  pastoral  scenes ;  for  with 
respect  to  the  epic  part,  it  will  ever  suffer  by  a  com- 
parison with  Milton,  of  whose  soblime  poem,  it  is  but 
a  feeble  imitation. 

Mr.  Gesner's  next  publication  was  entitled  '•  The 
First  Navigator"  a  poem  in  three  books,  which  blends 
the  most  charming  philosophy  with  the  most  pictur- 
esque splendour  cf  Fairy   land.     He,  likewise,  at- 


430  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

tempted  the  pastoral  drama,  in  which,  however,  he 
was  not  so  successful,  as  in  other  kinds  of  rural  poetry. 
— ^His  productions  of  this  kind  are  "  Evander  and 
Alcymne,"  in  three  acts,  and  "  Erastus,"  in  one  act. 
They  are  both  very  instructive  and  affecting  pieces, 
from  the  contrast,  which  they  exhibit  between  the 
world  and  nature  ;  and  they  were  performed  with 
success  by  some  theatric  companies  at  Leipsic  and 
Vienna. 

}3ut,  though  poetry  was  Gesner's  darling  pursuit, 
he  in  turns  took  up  the  pencil  and  the  pen  and  his 
active  genius  equally  directed  them  both.  In  his  in- 
fancy he  had  received  a  few  lessons  in  drawing,  and 
he  had  afterwards  pursued  the  study,  but  without  any 
intention  of  becoming  an  artist.  At  the  age  of  thirty 
he  felt  that  vehement  desire,  which  may  be  considered' 
as  the  voice  of  genius,  and  this  was,  in  some  measure, 
excited  by  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  collection  formed 
by  Mr.  Heidegger,  whose  daughter  he  had  married. 
To  please  his  father-in-law,  he  studied  this  treasure, 
composed  principally  of  the  best  pieces  of  the  Flemish 
school,  and  to  this  new  taste,  he  had  almost  sacrificed 
every  other.  In  1765,  he  published  ten  landscapes, 
etched  and  engraved  by  himself;  and  twelve  more 
appeared  in  1769.  From  his  earliest  attempts  in  en- 
graving, he  continued  to  design  and  engrave  decora- 
tions for  many  works,  which  were  issued  from  his 
presses,  among  which  were  his  own  works,  a  German 
translation  of  Swift,  and  several  others. 

Were  we  to  judge  from  Mr.  Gesner's  enthusiasm 
for  his  Favourite  pursuits,  and  from  the  time  and  ;!^t- 
tention,  which  he  bestowed  upon  them,  we  should 
be  apt  to  conclude,  that  he  found  little  leisure  for  dis- 
charging his  duty  as  a  citizen.  The  contrary,  how- 
ever, was  the  case,  for  he  passed  almost  the  half  of  his 
life  in  the  first  employments  of  the  state,  in  each  of 
which  he  discharged  his  duty  with  the  most  scrupu- 
lous care  and  fidelity.  He  died  of  a  paralytic  disorder, 
lamented  by  his  countrymen^  and  by  these,  who  had 


I 


DICTIONARY.  431 

the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance,  oil  the  2d  of  March, 
1788,  at  the  age  of  56.  ^  , 

Mr.  Gesner's  reputation  and  virtues  were  known 
even  to  the  remotest  parts  of  Europe.  The  Empress 
of  Russia,  Catharine  II.  presented  him  with  a  gold 
medal,  as  a  mark  of  her  esteem.  Strangers  of  all  na- 
tions gave  him  no  less  flattering  testimonies  of  their 
admiration  ;  and  travellers  thought  they  had  seen  op- 
]y  the  half  of  Switzerland,  if  they  had  not  been  in  tlie 
company  of  Gesner,  or  procured  some  of  his  land- 
scapes or  drawings. 

GOLDSMITH,  (Oliver)  an  eminent,  historic, 
dramatic  and  miscellaneous  writer,  who,  with  impedi- 
ments in  his  address,  person  and  temper,  sufficient  to 
have  kept  down  most  men  in  the  depths  of  obscurity, 
attained  a  large  share  of  literary  eminence  and  emo- 
lument, which,  with  common  prudence,  might  have 
protected  the  remainder  of  his  life  from  the  irritating 
uncertainties  of  want ;  but  who,  to  use  his  own  words, 
had  acquired  a  taste  for  spending  thousands,  before 
he  had  acquired  the  more  useful  art  of  earning  a  gui- 
nea. 

•He  was  born  at  Roscommon  in  Ireland,  in  1729, 
and  being  a  younger  son  was  designed  by  his  father 
for  the  church.  With  this  view,  he  was,  in  June, 
1744,  sent  to  Trinity  college,  Dublin,  where  he  ob- 
tained the  degree  of  B.  A.  in  1749.  He  soon  after, 
however,  turned  his  thoughts  to  physic,  and  in  order  to 
qualify  himself  more  effectually  for  that  profession,  he 
went  to  attend  the  medical  lectures,  at  Edinburgh  in 
1731.  Here  his  beneficent  disposition  soon  involved 
him  in  dffficuhies,  and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  Scot- 
land, in  consequence  of  his  having  become  surety 
to  pay  a  considerable  sum  of  money  for  a  fellow- 
student. 

A  few  days  after,  about  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1754,  he  arrived  at  Sunderland,  near  Newcastle,  where 


432  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

he  was  arrested  at  the  suit  of  a  taylor  in  Edinburgh^ 
to  whom  he  had  given  security  for  his  friend.  By 
the  good  offices  of  Dr.  Sleigh,  however,  and  another 
gentleman,  who  had  known  him  in  the  college,  he 
was  I'oon  delivered  out  of  the  hands  of  the  sheriff,  and 
took  his  passage  for  Rotterdam,  where,  after  a  short 
stay,  he  proceeded  to  Brussels.  He  then  visited  a 
great  part  of  Flanders,  and  after  passing  sometime  at 
Strasburgh  and  Louvain,  where  he  obtained  a  degree 
of  bachelor  of  physic,  he  accompanied  an  English 
gentleman  to  Berne  and  Geneva. 

It  is  undoubtedly  a  fact,  that  this  Ingenious  but  un- 
fortunate man,  travelled  on  foot  most  part  of  his  tour.  | 
He  had  left  England  with  very  little  money  ;  and  be-  1 
ing  of  a  philosophical  turn,  and  at  that  time  possess* 
ing  a  body  capable  of  sustaining  every  fatigue,  and  a 
heart  not  easily  terrified  at  danger,  he  became  an  en* 
thusiast  to  the  design  he  had  formed  cf  seeing  the 
manners  of  different  countries.  He  had  some  know- 
ledge of  the  French  language  and  of  music,  and  he 
played  tolerably  well  on  the  german  flute  ;  which,  from 
an  amusement,  became  at  some  times  the  means  of 
subsistence.  His  learning  produced  him  a  hospital 
reception  at  most  of  the  religious  houses  ;  and  his  mu- 
sic made  him  welcome  to  the  peasants  of  Flanders 
and  Germany.  "  Whenever  I  approached,"  he  used 
to  say,''  a  peasant's  house  towards  nightfall,  I  played 
one  cf  my  most  merry  tunes  5  and  that  procured  me 
not  only  a  lodging,  but  subsistence  for  the  next  day  ; 
but  in  truth  (his  constant  expression)  I  must  own, 
whenever  I  attempted  to  entertain  persons  of  a  higher 
rank,  they  always  thought  my  performance  odious, 
and  never  made  me  any  return  for  my  endeavours  to 
please  them.'* 

On  Mr.  Goldsmith's  arrival  at  Geneva,  he  was  re* 
commended  as  a  proper  person  for  a  travelling  tutor 
to  a  young  gentleman,  who  had  been  unexpectedly 
left  a  considerable  fortune.     This  v/arry  youth,  v/ho 


¥ 


DICTIONARY.  433 

naa  bcCR' articled  to   an  attorney,  on  engaging:;  wiih 
his  preceptor,  made  a  proviso,  that  he  should  be^'y^'^'t" 
mitted  to  govern  hinnself,  and  Goldsmith  soo:- 
his  pupil  understood   the  art  of  directing   in  -.'.        y 
concerns  extremely  v^'ell,  as  avarice  was  hrs  prec-     :!- 
nant  passion.     Hi's'  questions   u^ere  usnallj. how  rz-r.- 
riey  might  be  saved,  ar:d  whicli  vs^as  the  least  exivm- 
sive  course  of  travelling  ;  or  whether  any  thing  ccli^l 
be  bought,  which  would  turn  to  account,  when  drsjife- 
sed  of  again  in  London  ?  Such  curiosities  on  the  way, 
cs  could  be  seen  for  nothing  he  was  ready   enough  to 
hok  at ;  but  if  the  sight  of  them  was  to  be  paid  for, 
he   usually  asserted  that  he  had  been  told  thev  ^er^ 
not  worth  seeing.     Pie  never  paid  a  bill  wiihont  t^j- 
serving  how  amazingly  expensive  travelling  wr,',  r^rrd 
all  this,  though  he  was  not  yet  twenty  one.     Duriri'lj 
Goldsmith's  continuance  in   Switzerland,  he  a-s^fd^^' 
ously  cultivated  his  poetical  talent,  ofv^'hich  he  \ 
given  some  striking   proofs,  while  at  the    colle- 
Edinburgh,      It  was   from   hence,  he   sent  th 
sketch  of  his  delightful  poem  called  "  The  Trav  -i 
to  his  brother  a  clergyman   in  Ireland,  vi'ho,  gi^■'    " 
up  fame  and  fortune,  had  retired   with   an   amiar*- 
wife  to  happiness  and  obscurity  on  an  income  of  -IC'  . 
sterling  a  year. 

From  Geneva,  Air.  Goldsmith  and  his  pupil  visited 
the  south  of  France,  where  the  young  man,  upc.- 
some  disagreement  with  his  preceptor,  paid  him  rh(^ 
small  part  of  his  salary,  which  was  due  and  embar::  ' 
for  England.  Our  wanderer  was  left  once  mc ! 
en  the  world  at  large,  and  experienced  a  varied 
difficulties  in  traver.>ing  the  greatest  part  of  Fra:  :::, 
At  length,  he  bent  his  course  towards  Englano,  r.nd 
arrived  at  Dover  in  the  beginning  of  the  winter  1758. 

His  finances  were  so  low  on  his  return  to  England, 
that  he   with  great  difficulty  got   to  London  ;  where, 
though  a  bachelor  of  physic,  he  in  vain  applied  to  se  / 
rai  apothecaries   to  be   received  into  their  sho^>s  c-,  a 
journeyman.  His  broad  Irish  accent  and  the  uncouth- 

Vol,  IE  No.  J6.  I  3 


434  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

ness  of  his  appearance,  occasioned  him  to  be  treated 
by  these  gentlemen  with  insult  and  contempt  :  but 
at  length,  a  chymist,  struck  with  the  simplicity  of  his 
manners,  joined  to  his  forlorn  condition,  took  him  in- 
to his  laboratory,  where  he  continued,  till  he  discover- 
ed Dr.  Sleigh  was  in  London.  This  gentleman  re- 
ceived him  with  the  warmest  affection,  and  liberally 
invited  him  to  share  his  purse,  till  some  proper  estab- 
lishment could  be  procured  for  him.  Goldsmith  un- 
willing to  be  a  burthen  to  his  friend,  a  short  time  af- 
ter, eagerly  embraced  an  offer,  which  was  made  him 
to  assist  in  an  academy  at  Peckham,  where  he  ac- 
quitted himself  greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  em- 
ployer. He  had  not  been  long  there,  however,  till 
having  obtained  some  reputation  by  certain  criticisms^, 
which  he  had  written  in  the  Monthly  Review,  Mr. 
Griffith  the  proprietor,  engaged  him  as  one  of  its 
compilers  :  and  as  he  now  resolved  to  pursue  the  pro- 
fession of  wTiting,  he  returned  to  London,  as  the 
mart,  where  abilities  of  every  kind  were  sure  of 
meeting  with  reward  and  distinction..  As  his  finan« 
ces  were,  by  no  means,  in  a  good  state,  he  determined 
to  adopt  a  plan  of  the  strictest  economy,  and  took 
lodgings  in  an  obscure  part  of  the  town,  where  he 
wrote  several  ingenious  little  pieces,  and  these  having 
greatly  increased  his  fame,  introduced  him  as  one  of 
the  writers  in  the  Public  Ledger,  in  which  his  "Citi- 
zen of  the  World"  originally  appeared,  under  the  title 
of  *' Chinese  Letters,"  about  the  year  1760.  These 
were  received  with  great  and  well  merited  approbati- 
on, as  they  were  replete  with  sound  sense  and  the 
most  acurate  knowledge  of  mankind.  We  cannotr 
help  transcribing  a  quotation  from  one  of  these  let- 
ters, as  it  places  the  accuracy  of  the  Doctor's  obser- 
vations, in  a  very  perspicuous  point  of  view,  and  seems; 
to  have  predicted  the  late  revolution  in  France.  "  As 
the  SzvedeSy'  says  he,  *'  are  making  concealed  ap-^ 
proaches  to  despotism^  the  French,  on  the  other  hand^^ 
arc  imperceptibly  vindicating  themselves  into/r^e*6^i?7.^.. 


DICTIONARY.  435 

When  I  consider,  that  these  parliaments,  (the  mem- 
bers of  which  were  all  created  by  the  court,  the  pre- 
sidents of  which  can  act  only  by  immediate  direction) 
presume  even  to  mention  privileges  and  freedom, 
who,  till  of  late,  received  directions  from  the  throne 
with  implicit  humility; — when  this  is  considered,  I 
cannot  help  fancying,  that  the  genius  q^  freedom^  has 
entered  that  kingdom  in  disguise.  If  they  have  but 
three  vceak  monarchs  more  successively  on  the  throne, 
the  mask  will  be  laid  aside,  and  the  country  will  cer- 
tainly once  more  be  free.''  It  was  very  remarkable, 
however,  in  Dr.  Goldsmith,  that  though  his  essays 
universally  display  the  most  accurate  knowledge  of 
life  and  of  the  world,  no  man  in  his  manners  and  con- 
versation exhibited  less. 

But  fortune,  at  last,  seemed  to  take  some  notice  of  a 
man,  whom  she  had  long  neglected.  The  simplicity  of 
his  character,  the  integrity  of  his  heart,  and  the  merit 
of  his  productions,  made  his  company  very  acceptable 
to  a  number  of  respectable  families,  and  he  emerged 
from  his  shabby  apartments  to  the  pohte  end  of  the 
town,  where  he  took  handsome  chambers  and  lived 
in  a  genteel  stile.  The  publication  of  his  ''Travel- 
ler," and  his  "Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  was  followed 
by  the  performance  of  his  comedy  of  "  The  Good 
Natured  Man,"  and  placed  him  in  the  first  rank  of 
the  poets  of  the  age. 

Among  many  other  persons  of  distinction,  who 
were  desirous  to  know  him,  was  the  duke  of  Nor- 
thumberland, and  the  circumstance,  which  attend- 
ed his  introduction  to  that  nobleman  is  worthy  of  be- 
ing related,  in  order  to  shew  a  striking  trait  of  his 
character.  '^Iwas  invited,"  said  the  Doctor,  "by 
my  friend  Mr.  Piercy,  to  wait  upon  the  Duke,  in 
consequence  of  the  satisfsction  he  had  received  from 
the  perusal  of  one  of  my  productions.  I  dressed  my- 
self in  the  best  manner  I  could  ;  and  after  studying 
some  compliments  I  thought  necessary  on  such  an 
occasion,  I  proceeded  to  Northumberland-House,  and 


4Zt>  .  HEW  BIOGRAPHIC  At 


acquainted  the  servants,  that  I  had  particular  busine 
with  his  Grace.  They  shewed  me  into  an  anti- 
chamber;  where,  after  waiting  some  time,  a  gentle- 
man very  genteely  dressed  made  his  appearance. 
Taking  him  for  the  Duke,  I  delivered  all  the  fine 
things  1  had  composed,  in  order  to  compliment  hirn 
on  the  honour  he  had  done  me  ^  when,  to  my  great 
astonishment,  he  told  me  I  had  mistaken  him  for  his 
master,  who  would  see  me  immediately.  At  that 
instant,  the  Duke  came  into  the  apartment,  and  I 
was  so  confused  on  the  occasion,  that  I  wanted 
words  barely  sufficient  to  express  the  sense  I  enter- 
tained of  the  Duke's  politeness,  and  w^ent  away  ex- 
tremely chagrined  at  the  blunder  I  had  committed." 

Another  feature  of  his  character  we  cannot  help  re- 
cording. Previous  to  the  publication  of  his  "  De- 
serted Village,"  the  Bookseller  had  given  him  a  note 
for  one  hundred  guineas  for  the  copy,  which  the  doc- 
tor mentioned  a  few  hours  after  to  one  of  his  friends, 
wlio  observed,  that  is  was  a  very  great  sum  for  so 
short  a  performance.  "  In  truth,"  replied  Goldsmith, 
*'  I  think  so  too  .;  I  have  not  been  easy  since. I  receiv- 
ed it  ;  therefore  I  will  go  back  and  return  him  his 
note  j"  which  he  absolutely  did,  and  left  it  entirely  to 
the  bookseller,  to  pay  him  according  to  the  profits 
which  should  accrue  from  the  sale  of  the  piece,  which, 
however,  turned  out  to  be  very  considerable. 

During  the  last  rehearsal  of  his  comedy  intitled 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  which  Mr.  Coleman,  the 
manager,  had  no  opinion  would  succeed,  on  the  doc- 
tor's objecting  to  the  repetition  of  one  of  Tony  Lump- 
kin's speeches,  being  apprehensive  it  might  injure  the 
play,  Mr.  C.  with  great  keenness,  replied,  ''  psha, 
my'dear  doctor,  do  not  be  fearful  of  squibs,  when  we 
have  been  sitting  almost  these  two  hours  upon  a  bar- 
rel of  gunpov.'der."  The  piece,  however,  contrary  to 
Mr.  Coleman's  expectations,  w^as  received  by  the  au- 
dience with  uncommon  applause,  and  Goldsmith's 
pride  v/as  so  much  hurt  by  the  severity  of  the  above 


^ 


DICTIONARY.  '        437 

observation,  that  it  entirely  put  an  end  to  his  friendiihip 
for  the  gentleman  who  made  it. 

Notwithstanding  the  great  successof  his  pieces,  by 
some  of  which,  it  is  asserted,  on  good  authority,  that 
he  cleared,  in  one  year,  about  8,000  'dollars,  his  cir- 
cumstances were,  by  no  means,  in  a  prosperous  situa- 
tion ;  which  was  partly  owing  to  the  excessive  libe- 
rality of  his  disposition,  and  partly  owing  to  an  un- 
fortunate habit  he  had  contracted  of  gaming,  the  arts 
of  which  he  but  very  little  understood. 

Just  before  his  death,  he  had  formed  a  design  for 
executing  an  Universal  Dictionary  of  arts  and  scien- 
ces, the  prospectus  of  which  he  had  actually  published. 

In  this  work,  several  of  his  literary  friends,  particu- 
larly Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Dr.  Johnson,  IMr.  B;?au- 
clerc  and  Mr.  Garrick,  had  undertaken  to  furnish 
him  with  articles  upon  different  subjects,  and  he  had 
entertained  the  most  sanguine  expectations  from  the 
success  of  it.  The  undertaking,  however,  did  not 
meet  with  that  encouragement  from  the  booksellers, 
w'hich  he  had  imagined  it  would  undoubtedly  receive  -, 
and  he  used  to  lament  this  circumstance  almost  to  the 
last  hour  of  his  existence. 

He  had  been  for  some  years,  afllicted  at  different 
times  with  a  violent  strangury,  which  contributed  not 
a  little  to  embitter  the  latter  part  of  his  life  ;  and, 
which  united  with  the  vexations  he  suffered  upon 
other  occasions,  brought  on  a  kind  of  habitual  despon- 
dency. In  this  unhappy  condition,  he  was  attacked 
by  a  nervous  fever,  to  which  he  at  last  fell  a  victim, 
in  consequence,  as  it  has  been  said,  of  his  own  un? 
manageable  temper ;  for  he  obstinately  persisted,  con- 
trary to  medical  advice,  in  taking  Jameses  powder,  a 
remedy  which  has  preserved  the  lives  of  thousands, 
but  which  in  the  hands  of  ignorance  or  temerity,  has 
been  productive  of  considerable  mischief.  His  death 
happened  on  the  4th  of  April,  1774. 

The  universal  esteem,  in  which  Tiis  poems  were 
4ield;  and  the  repeated  pleasure  they  gave  in  the  pe- 


438  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

rusal,  is  a  striking  test  of  their  merit.  He  was  a  stu- 
dious and  correct  observer  of  nature  ;  happy  in  the 
selection  of  his  in:iages,  in  the  choice  of  his  subjects 
and  in  the  harmony  of  his  versification ;  and  though 
his  embarrassed  situation  prevented  him  from  putting 
the  last  hand  to  many  of  his  productions,  his  "  Her- 
mit," his  "  Traveller"  and  his  "  Deserted  Village," 
bid  fair  to  claim  a  place  among  the  most  finished 
pieces  in  the  English  language. 

But  with  all  his  accomplishments,  and  powers,  he 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  either  wise  or  happy. 
Though  simple,  honest,  humane  and  gcnerous,he  was 
irritable,  passionate,  peevish  and  sullen,  and  spleen 
has  run  so  high  with  him,  that  he  is  said  often  to  have 
left  a  party  of  convivial  friends  abruptly  in  the  even- 
ing, in  order  to  go  home  and  brood  over  his  misfor- 
tunes. Simplicity,  however,  united  to  the  most  bril- 
liant talents,  were  his  distinguised  characteristics. — 
Hence  no  line  more  descriptive  of  him  than  that  of 
Pope  can  well  be  imagined  : 

"  In  wit  a  man,  simplicity  a  child." 
VV^ant  of  economy  was  perhaps,  the  principal,  if  not 
the  sole  source  of  all  his  uneasiness :  for  the  money 
which  he  received  for  his  various  publications,  would, 
if  properly  applied,  have  been  amply  sufficient  to  have 
placed  him  far  above  the  fear  of  want ;  and  to  have 
enabled  him  to  pass  the  evening  of  his  days  free  from 
anxiety  in  respect  to  pecuniary  concerns.  A  total 
negligence,  however,  in  regard  to  his  private  affairs, 
kept  him  continually  involved,  in  consequence  of 
which,  his  mind  was  often  highly  irritated,  his  days 
greatly  imbittered  and  his  death  accelerated. 

Such  an  example  should  infuse  into  the  minds  of 
young  men  a  portion  of  necessary  pride,  not  that  spe- 
cies of  pride  which  is  gratified  by  the  cut  of  a  coat 
or  the  display  of  an  enormous  cravat;  but  that  honest, 
that  manly  pride  of  independence,  which  diligently 
siezing  the  golden  hours  of  youth  and  opportunity, 
will  not  suffer  the  drones  of  apathy  or  intemperance^ 


i 


DICTIONARY.  439 

placed  by  fortune  abov^  tbe  necessity  of  industry,  to 
seduce  them  from  the  great  work  of  life.  For  in  the 
decline  of  health,  fame,  age  or  fortune,  those  very  men 
to  whose  follies  or  vices,  they  have  given  up  their 
nights  and  days,  will  be  the  first  to  desert  them, 
rid'icule  their  difficulties,  expose  their  wcai^ness  and 
insult  their  distress.  Y/iiT   -    gid  '\i!'  ■ 

Besides  the  works  of  Goldsmith,  which  rJ-e  have*  al*- 
ready  mentioned,  he  wrote  1  "  I'he  History  of  the 
Earth  and  Animated  Nature,"  in  6  vols.  8  vo.  2 
"  History  of  England,'*  in  4  vols.  8vo.  3.  "  History 
of  Rome,"  2  vols.  4.  "  Abridgments  of  the  two  last 
for  schools."  5.  Miscellanies,  &:c. 

GORDON,  (Hon.  George)  commonly  called 
Lord  George  Gordon,  was  the  third  son  of  the  late 
duke  of  Gordon,  and  born  in  London,  Dec.  19th, 
1750.  After  he  had  finished  his  education,  he  en- 
tered the  navy  at  an  early  age.  His  lordship  was 
remarkable  from  his  infancy  for  the  qualities  of  cheer- 
fulness, and  a  boon  companibn.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, display  that  enterprising  spirit,  which  distin- 
guishes the  boy  above  his  fellows,  and  afterwards 
characterizes  the  hero  amongst  men.  His  genius 
was  purely  social :  he  was  a  facetious  good  humour- 
ed being,  who  made  all  his  shipmates  love  him,  and 
his  temper  was  tinctured  with  those  qualities,  which 
serve  to  make  a  man  rather  amiable  than  great,  ra- 
ther happy  than  famous.  Good  nature  was  his  pre- 
dominant feature,  and  of  so  large  a  portion  of  this 
endearing  virtue  was  he  possessed,  that  he  was  never 
known  in  any  one  moment  of  vivacity  or  exhilaration 
to  sacrifice  it  to  a  joke,  or  suspend  it  for  the  exercise 
of  his  wit.  Through  life,  he  displayed  a  remarkable 
alacrity  in  insinuating  himself  into  the  good  graces  of 
those  with  whom  he  conversed ;  and,  in  this  respect, 
he  was  greatly  assisted  by  his  person.  The  qualities 
ofhis  heart  realized  the  impressions  which  his  appear- 


440  NEW   BIOGRAPHICAL 

ance  gave,  and  no  man  was,   in  his  younger  yeafj 
blest  with  more  friends  and  fewer  enemies  than  he. 

A  very  remarkable  instance  of  his  success  was  seen 
at  the  general  election,  which  took  place  about  the  year 
1776.  Two  years  before  the  time  of  election,  his  Icrd- 
ship  went  to  reside  in  Invernes^hire,  .with  the  purpose 
of  standing  candidate  for  that  couinty,  in  opposition  to 
General  Fraser.  He  employed  those  two  years  in  a 
canvass ;  and  he  w^as  so  successful  in  his  application^ 
that,  without  the  adventitious  aids  of  bribery  and  cor- 
ruption, too  common  in  Great  Britain,  he  secured  a 
majority  of  votes.  He  visited  every  part  of  the  coun- 
ty, and  particularly  the  isles.  He  played  on  the  bag- 
pipes and  violin  to  those  who  loved  music.  He 
spoke  Gaelic,  and  wore  the  tartan  plaid  and  fillibeg, 
in  places  where  they  were  national.  He  made  love 
to  the  young  ladies,  and  listened  vvith  the  utmost  pa- 
tience, while  the  old  gave  him  an  account  of  their 
clans ;  and,  to  crown  his  success,  he  gave  the  gentry 
a  ball  at  Inverness,  to  which  he  not  only  invited,  but 
actually  brought  the  young  and  the  old  from  every 
part  of  the  country.  For  this  purpose,  he  hired  a 
ship,  and  brought  from  the  isle  of  Sky,  the  beautiful 
family  of  the  Macleods,  consisting  of  fifteen  young 
ladies,  who  were  the  pride  and  admiration  of  the 
north. 

General  Fraser  was  very  much  grieved  to  see  his 
interest  thus  overturned  by  a  mere  lad.  He  had  re- 
presented the  county  for  three  successive  parliaments, 
and  was  more  hurt  that  the  Lovat  interest  should  be 
destroyed  in  the  county,  than  at  the  sum  which  he 
must  divest  to  retrieve  it.  He  went  to  Lord  George's 
brother,  the  duke,  and  by  a  compromise,  agreed  to 
purchase  an  English  Borough  for  him.,  if  he  would 
relinquish  the  Shire  of  Inverness.  This  agreement 
being  made.  General  Fraser  purchased  from  Lord 
Melbourne,  a  seat  for  his  Lordship  from  the  Borough 
of  Luggershall. 

Being  thus  introduced  into  the  house  of  commons. 


DICTIONARY.  4il 

lord  George,  for  some  time,  voted  with  the  ministry. 
He  did  this,  however,  very  much  against  his  inclina- 
tion, for  the  Duchess,    his    sister-in-iavv,  by  her  wit 
and  facetious  reasoning,  had  made  him  a  convert   to 
the  principles  of  opposition,  which  she   particularly 
favoured,  though  the  Duke,  from  motives  of  policy, 
voted   like  all  the  rest  of  the  elective  peers.     Lord 
George  placed  himself  beneatli  the  political  tutelage 
of  Governor  Johnstone  and  Mr.  Burke.     The  first  of 
these  gentlemen,  who  was  then  in  his   meridian   of 
anti-ministerial  fame,  w^as  his  principal  director,  and 
it   was,  through  his  management,  that  he   entirely 
broke  with  the  ministry.     The   manner  was  this : — 
His  Lordship  had,  by  this  time,  attained  to  the  rank 
of  lieutenant  in  the  navy.     The  governor,  therefore, 
advised  him  to  apply  to  Lord  Sandwich  for  a  ship. 
His  lordship  had  several  interviews  on  the  subject, 
in  which  lord  Sandwich  informed  him,  that  *'  he  was 
a  very  young  lieutenant  in  the  service,  and  that  there 
were  many  before  him,    w^hom  he  could   not  dis- 
oblige.**    But  not   willing  to  give  his  lordship   any 
cause  for  dissatisfaction,  he   told  him  at    the  same 
time,  **that  there  were  many  frigates  and  ships  build- 
ing, and  as  soon  as  he  could  with  any  decency  give 
his  lordship  an  appointment,  he   certainly  would,  as 
well  from  inclination  as  from   interest."     The  gover- 
''  nor  persuaded  him,  that  this  was,  in  the  sea   phrase, 
mere  palaver,  and  that  he  threw  out  a  false  signal  to 
deceive  the  chace.     To  this  Mr.   Burke  added  an 
assurance,  (and  it  was  probably  confirmed  to  his  lord- 
ship by  the  Marquis  of  Rockingham)  that,  if  he  should 
through  his  conduct  in  parliament,    come  to  a  disa- 
greement with  his  family,  he  should   be  returned  for 
some   Borough  in  the  Rockingham  interest,  at   the 
next  election.     On  this  ground,  lord  George  went 
again  to  the  first  lord  of  the  admiralty,  and  told  him, 
that  he  desired  to  have  a  specific  answer  whether  he 
would  give  him  a  ship  or   not.     Lord  Sandwich  re- 
peated the    assurances,  which  he  had  before  given, 
Vol.11.  No.  IQ,         K  3 


i42  NEW    BIOGRAPHItJAL 

when  his  lordship  told  him,  that  he  could  not  any 
longer  be  deceived  by  empty,  unmeaning  promises, 
and  with  the  utmost  deliberation  took  his  commission 
out  of  his  pocket,  and  returned  it  to  lord  Sandwich, 
telling  him,  he  might  do  with  it  what  he  pleased. 

From  that  time,  he  entered  warmly  into  the  oppo- 
sition ;  and  the  American  affairs  comJng  on  the  car- 
pet, he  took  a  decided  part  against  every  measure 
which  was  adopted.  His  lordship  had  been  in  Ame- 
rica some  years  before,  in  the  station  of  a  midshipman, 
and  induced  by  that  social  quality,  which  always 
distinguished  him,  had  mixed  a  good  deal  v/ith  the 
inhabitants,  in  consequence  of  which,  he  had  dis- 
cerned, that,  though  they  were  full  of  resentment 
against  the  authors  of  those  measures,  which  had  been 
taken  to  oppress  them,  they  had  still  a  warm  affec- 
tion towards  the  people  of  Great  Britain.  Lord 
C^eorge,  therefore,  gave  his  vote  regularly,  without^ 
standing  forth  as  a  speaker,  against. all  the  American 
measures. 

The  first  time  of  his  public  appearance  was  in  the 
year  1778,  when  in  a  very  manly,  though,   perhaps, 
not  very  prudent  speech,  he  charged  the  minister  with 
being  guilty  of  an  "  infamous  attempt"  to  bribe  him 
to  relinquish  the  interest   of  his  constituents,    with  a 
place.    The  circumstance  that  gave  rise  to  so  pointed' 
an  accusation,  was  this: — Lord  North,  felt  himself  so  j 
borne  down  in  the  house,  by  the  irresistible  eloquence^ 
of  Mr.  Fox,  that  he  determined  to  bring  in  the  ce- 
lebrated Irish  orator,  Henry   Flood,  to  set  in  opposi- 
tion to  him.     With  this  view,  an  emissary  was   em- 
ployed to  apply  to  lord  George  Gordon,  as  to  a  needy 
man,  to  offer  him,  if  he  would  give  up  his   seat  in 
parliament,    the  place  of  vice-admiral  in  Scotland, 
which  happened  to  be  then  vacant.     Lord  George 
rejected  the  offer  with   the  utmost   contempt;  for, 
though  there  were  few  of  the   members,  who   were  I 
not  in  more  affluent  circumstances  than  himself;  yet, 
as  he  always  regulated  his  expences  by  his  income. 


DICTIONARY, 


44%^ 


he  was  enabled  to  live  independent,  and  set  the  arts- 
and  the  power  of  the  minister  at  defiance. 

His  lordship  was  considered  in  parliament,  as  a 
witty  and  facetious  member ;  and,  as  he  was  uncon- 
nected with  either  of  the  factions,  which  divided  the 
house,  he  occasionally  animadverted  with  great  free- 
dom on  both  ;  which  gave  occasion  to  its  being  said, 
at  that  period,  that  thtre  were  **  three  parties  in  par- 
liament ;  the  ministry,  the  opposition,  and  lord 
George  Gordon."  Several  of  his  publications,  like- 
wise, upon  miscellaneous  subjects,  are  characterized 
by  sound  argument,  and  illuminated  with  flashes  of 
genuine  humour. 

In  the  year  1778,  when  the  British  troops  were 
hard  pressed  by  the  Americans,  government,  not  from 
a  liberality  of  sentiment,  or  a  tolerating  spirit ;  but' 
from  the  hopes  of  strengthening  their  party,  proposed 
to  the  catholics,  to  repeal  the  statutes  enacted  against 
them,  provided  they  would  contribute  to  support  the 
American  war,  by  entering  into  the  fleets  and  armies.- 
The  proposal  was  received  with  avidity  ;  the  bill  for 
repealing  the  penal  statutes,  was  hurried  through  the 
house  ;  the  army  and  navy  found  new  supplies,  and 
the  cabinet  new  vigor,  for  prosecuting  an  unhappy 
civil  war.  \ 

But  though  the  motives  by  which  the  British  go- 
vernment were  actuated,  were,  most  probably  wrong, 
the  measure  was  in  itself,  undoubtedly  right.  True 
Christianity,  recognizes  no  other  means  of  bringing 
over  proselytes,  than  persuasion  :  compulsion  is  en- 
tirely repugnant  to  its  spirit,  for  God  requires  a  wil- 
ling  and  a  reasonable  service,  it  is  to  be  regretted, 
however,  th&t  a  great  part  of  the  British  nation,  were 
induenced  by  sentiments  of  a  far  diflerent  nature; 
That  spirit  of  intolerance,  which,  in  direct  opposition 
to  the  benign  principles  of  the  gospel,  had  so  often 
filled  the  world  with  bloodshed  and  devastation,  nov;» 
stalked  forth  in  all  its  horrors  ;  and,  strange  inconsist-' 
ency  I  those  very   men,,  who   were  continually  de* 


444  IJEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

claiming  against  the  tyrannical  and  persecuting  dis- 
position of  the  Romish  church,  were  now  desirous 
of  acting  that  very  part,  which  they  so  severely  re- 
reprohated  in  others. 

At  the  head  of  the  many  opponents  to  this  just  and 
humane  indulgence  to  the  English  catholics  was  lord" 
George  Gordon,  whose  reception  in  Scotland,  after 
the  very  decided  part  he  had  taken  in  this  business, 
was  indeed  sufficient  to  infatuate  any  man.  He  was 
considered  as  the  champion  of  the  kirk,  and  they  ve- 
nerated this  as  the  highest  character  of  human  exal- 
tation. Thus  courted  and  applauded,  it  was  not  to 
be  wondered,  that  he  became  ambitious  of  success. 
He,  therefore,  entered  fully  into  their  designs,  and  as- 
suming the  character  and  appearance  of  a  strict  pres-' 
byterian,  became  the  life  and  soul  of  numerous 
societies  formed  in  Scotland,  who  actuated  by  a  mis- 
taken zeal,  associated  for  the  preservation  of  an  es- 
tablished religion,  already  guaranteed  and  fortifi- 
ed, not  only  by  its  invincible  truth  and  holiness,  but 
by  laws,  habits,  length  of  possession,  public  opinion 
and  the  united  force  of  a  whole  empire.  Inflam- 
matory pamphlets  were  distributed  gratis  without 
number:  the  news-papers  and  corners  of  the  streets 
were  crowded  with  letters,  paragraphs  and  hand-bi]l>, 
teeming  with  invective  and  abuse  ;  all  evidently  tend- 
ing to  excite  the  people  to  acts  of  outrage.  The  ef- 
fect answered  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  the 
writers,  who  soon  beheld  the  flame,  which  they  had 
so  successfully  (they  said  unintentionally)  blov/n  up, 
not  only  spread  through  every  part  of  Scotland,  but 
extended  into  the  southern  part  of  the  united  king- 
dom, until,  at  length,  it  literally  blazed  forth,  in  its 
utmost  violence  and  attended  with  all  its  horrors,  in 
the  metropolis  of  the  empire. 

The  wretched  catholics,  who  were  thus  marked 
out  as  the  objects  of  public  execration,  apprehending 
the  most  fatal  consequences  from  the  dangerous  spirit 
now  raised,  thought  it  prudent  and  necessary,  early 


DICTIONARY.  445 

in  the  year  1779,  to  acquaint  Lord  North,  that,  choos- 
ing rather  to  sacrifice  their  own  fature  ease  and  ad- 
vantage than  to  endanger  the  immedijite  peace  of  their 
own  country,  they  would  refrain  from  any  application 
to  the  legislature  tor  the  expected,  and  so  much  wish- 
ed for  indulgence  ;  and  in  hopes  of  assuaging  the  fu- 
ry and  rage  of  the  multitude,  the  letter  written  upon 
the  subject,  by  these  gentlemen  to  the  ministry  in- 
cluding that  resolution  and  act  of  forbearance  on  their 
side,  which  ought  totally  to  have  removed  every  new 
object  of  jealousy  and  discontent,  was  published  in 
the  news-papers. 

•  No  concessions,  however,  could  allav  the  fury  of 
that  outrageous  zeal,  which  was  now  let  loose.  For 
sometime. the  Roman  catholics  had  been  subjected 
in  open  day-light,  and  in  the  public  streets  of  Edin- 
burgh to  contumelious  treatment  and  shoe  kins;  threats 
from  the  enraged  rabble,  who  on  the  2d  of  February 
1779,  proceeded  to  put  their  threats  in  execu- 
tion by  the  demolition  ot  two  of  their  chapels.  The 
rioters  afterwards  directed  their  violence  against  the 
catholics  in  other  parts  of  the  town,  and  totally  des- 
troyed the  stock  in  trade  and  effects  of  several  trades- 
men of  that  persuasion.  Some  ladies  of  faohion  of 
that  communion  v/ere  likewise  insiili'^  1  and  obliged 
to  take  refuge  in  the  castle. 

After  having  been  sonie  time  engaged  in  hunting 
out  and  annoying  this  miserable  people,  they  at  last 
extended  their  views  to  the  punishment  or  destruction 
of  those  gentlemen,  of  whatever  rank  or  religion, 
who  had  been  supposed  to  favor  tlie  late  designs  of 
obtaining  a  relaxation  of  i\ie  laws  against  popery. 
The  failure  of  success  however,  which  attended 
iheir  efforts  on  this  enlar^^ement  of  design  and  object, 
served  gr^^atly  to  damp  the  spirit  of  future  enterprize. 
Their  first  fury  was  directed  to  the  house  of  the  late 
Dr^  Robertson,  the  celebrated  historian,  and  to  that 
of  Mr.  Crosbie,  an  eminent  advocate;  who,  standing 
high,  if  not  at   th?  hoad  of  his  protession,  was  still 


445  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

more  distinguished  by  the  excellence  of  his  character 
and  disposition.  The  enlightened  views  and  liberal 
sentiments  of  the  first  of  these  gentlemen,  which 
rendered  him  an  enemy  to  all  persecution,  rendered 
him  an  object  of  it  to  the  deluded  populace  ;  and  the 
second  had  submitted  to  the  crime  of  being  professi- 
onally employed  as  counsel  for  that  people,  and  of 
having  accordingly  drawn  up  the  bill  which  their  re- 
presentatives had  intended  to  present  to  parliament. 
But  the  mob  found  the  houses  of  these  gentlemen  so 
well  armed,  and  guarded  with  so  determined  a  reso- 
lution by  their  numerous  friends,  that  they  refrained 
froo)  proceeding  to  extremities,  and  retired  without 
any  farther  outrage  than  breaking  a  few  windows. 
Soon  after  this,  the  infatuated  populace,  were  pre- 
vailed'on  by  the  magistrates  to  desist. 

The  example  of  Edinburgh,  was,  in  some  degree^ 
copied  in  Glasgow  ;  but  from  the  spirited  conduct  of 
the  magistrates  in  that  great  commercial  city,  the 
mob  were  obliged  to  desist,  after  having  destroyed 
the  property  of  only  one  solitary  individual. 

It  might  naturally  have  been  expected,  that  such 
outrages  in  Scotland,  would  have  induced  the  leaders 
of  the  zealots  in  England,  to  have  acted  with  more 
circumspection,  at  least,  if  they  had  been  actuated 
by  any  regard  to  the  public  tranquillity.  They,  how- 
ever, pursued  a  very  different  conduct.  An  associ- 
ation was  formed  in  London,  upon  the  same  princi- 
ples with  that  of  North  Britain,  and  lord  George  Gor- 
don w^as  elected  their  president.  Their  first  object 
was,  to  draw  up  and  present  a  petition  to  the  house 
of  commons,  requesting  a  repeal  of  the  obnoxious 
law.  The  petition  was  publicly  advertised  to  be 
signed  by  ?.]\  who  approved  of  it,  and  as  no  pains  had 
been  spared  to  inflame  the  public  mind,  signatures 
were  multiplied  to  an  amazing  extent.  The  associa- 
tors  met  on  May  29th,  when  lord  George  addressed 
them  in  a  speech  of  considerable  length,  which  was 
received  with  the  loudest  acclamations^    His  lordship 


DICTIONARY,  44T 

then  moved  the  following  resolution,  which  was  una- 
nimously carried,  viz.  "  That  the  whole  body  of  the 
protestant  association,  do  attend  in  St.  George's  fields, 
on  Friday  next,  at  10  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to  ac- 
company him  to  the  house  of  commons,  on  the  deli- 
very of  the  protestant  petition,"  which,  however,  he 
informed  them,  that  he  would  not  present,  unless  he 
were  attended  by  twenty  thousand  people. 

Upon  the  2d  of  June,  a  vast  crowd  of  people  as- 
sembled, at  the  place  appointed,  with  blue  cockades, 
colours  flying,  and  the  words  "  No  Popery"  inscribed 
on  their  hats.  Lord  George  arranged  them  in  four 
divisions,  and  took  his  station  in  the  centre  of  the 
Scotch,  who  were  distinguished  by  martial  music, 
and  after  haranguing  them,  and  recommending  good 
order  ?Lnd ^firmness yYepsLired  to  the  house  of  commons, 
followed,  as  was  generally  supposed,  by  about  sixty- 
thousand  people.  Charity  induces  us  to  believe, 
that,  in  such  a  number,  there  were  many,  who  went 
unwarily  and  without  any  evil  intention  ;  but  it  would 
be  credulity  in  the  extreme,  to  doubt,  that  there  were 
some  amongst  them,  who  foresaw,  who  intended,  and 
who  had  practised  to  accomplish  the  purposes,  which 
ensued. 

A  very  short  time  disclosed,  that  one  of  the  ob- 
jects which  this  multitude  was  collected  to  effectuate, 
was  to  overawe  the  legislature,  to  influence  their  de- 
liberations, and  obtain  the  alteration  of  a  law  by  their 
force,  and  by  their  numbers.  To  petition  for  the 
passing,  or  the  repeal  of  any  act,  is  the  undoubted 
inherent  right  of  freemen ;  yet,  under  the  name 
and  colour  of  petitioning,  to  assume  command,  and 
to  dictate  to  the  legislature,  is  the  annihilation  of  all 
order  and  government.  The  fatal  experience  of 
France,  during  the  late  revolution,  with  respect  to 
the  danger  of  tumultuous  petitions,  abundantly  ve- 
rifies the  justice  of  this  remark.  But,  besides  the 
manifest  impropriety  of  bringing  so  great  a  multitude 
together,  there  is  a  positive  law  against  such  a  pro- 


443  NEW    BiaQRAPHICAL 

ceeding  in,,.(^X:eat  Biitain,^,-.^?$tatiite  having  been 
passed  in  theiSih  year  qi"  Chai^Ms  II.  eiiacting,  that 
FiQ  petition , to  the  kiiig,  or  eilher.ho^se  of  parliament, 
for  alijeration  of  matters  established  by  Jaw,  in  church 
or  state,  ;ShaU  be  presented  by  more  tlian  ten  per- 
sons.    )mU  no  icm  svjBff  to*!  Jf  bkjcASi  d:  ■  ■'jJ 

Upon  their  arrival  at  the  house,  lord  George  moved  ^ 
to  have  the  bill  repealed  immediately,  and  was  se- 
conded by  alderman  Bull,  supported  by  several  other 
members.  The  commons,  perceiving  themselves  thus 
besieged,  wished  to  avoid  the  disgrace  of  being  forced, 
and  proposed  to  adjourn;  but  his  lordship  finding 
himself  so  well  supported  from  without,  pressed  them 
to  proceed.  The  people  became  clamorous,  vocife- 
rating, ,^>,<repeal,  repeal,"  upon  which  lord;  .George 
Vv'ent  to  the  gallery,  which  looks  into  the  lobby,  and 
addressing  them,  read  the  coronation  oath,  and  de- 
claj-ed  '*  he  was  of  opinion  that  his  majesty  had  vio- 
lated it,  and  was  in  the  same  predicament  with  James 
II.  after  the  abdication,"  entreated  them  to  be  firm, 
and  informed  them,  that  the  "  ministry  proposed  called 
ing  on  the  military,  but  it  was  too  rash  a  step  to  be 
ha;earded,  besides,  that  the  military  were  generally 
disaffected." 

'Du^ring  the  debates,  wiiich  ensued  upon  this  occa« 
siaiUj,theassoeiators  being  in  possession  of  the  lobby, 
theij^orntistona  ^\^ere  kept  confined  for  several  hours, 
before  they  could  divide  upon  the  question;  but  the 
arrival  of  the  magistrates  and  guards  having  removed 
the  imfjediment,  it  was  rejected  by  a  majority  of  196 
tosi'Xonly.    in-v-    ^y'  '.      ;   .:..  -     ;  ^^-...-I'.rj.- ;,  .u.: 

The  pethionei^s  finding  themselves  thus  disappK^iiint- 
ed  in  their  objeet  seenaed  to  disperse.  Many  of  the 
persons  so  assembiedimo  doubt,  retired  to  their  dwel- 
lings^: but  someuiors  desperate;  and  active  remained 
to  convincettise'legislature,  that  4he."  mens^eS  which 
they  had  threateBed,  vwete:  not  fruitless;  that  they 
liad  not  abandoned.their  :purpose5-  but  meant  to  carry 
it  into  iiill  execution.     When  night   fell,  the -houses 


% 


DICTIONARY.  449 

of  the  Sardinian  and  Bavarian  ambassadors  were  at- 
tacked and  their  chapels  plundered  and  set  on  fire. 
Had  such  an  outrage  been  committed  on  a  British 
public  minister,  in  any  of  those  countries,  the  most 
superstitious  and  bigotted  to  its  established  religion, 
what  reproach  vvould  it  not  have  cast  on  that  conn- 
try?  What  indignation  and  abhorrence  would  it  not 
have  justly  excited  in  the  breasts  of  the  English  na- 
tion ?  Yet  upon  the  tolerant  and  enlightened  land  of 
England  itself  was  that  reproach  now  brought. 

Upon  the  3d  of  June  there  was  a  seeming  quiet,  a 
very  memorable  circumstance  !  for  sudden  tumults, 
when  they  subside  are  over.  To  revive  a  tumult 
evinces  something  of  settled  influence,  and  something 
so  like  design,  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  most  can- 
did mind  not  to  conceive,  that  there  lies  at  the  bottom 
a  pre-concerted  settled  plan  of  operation.  Sunday  the 
next  day,  a  day  set  apart  for  religious  worship,  and 
not  to  be  violated,  even  by  the  labours  of  honest  in- 
dustry, in  broad  sushine,  public  buildings  and  private 
houses  in  Moorfields  were  attacked  and  entered,  and 
the  furniture  deliberately  brought  out  and  consumed 
by  bonfires.  And  all  this  was  done  in  the  view  of  pa- 
tient magistrates. 

Some  magistrates  and  some  individuals  had,  indeed, 
in  the  beginning  of  the  disturbances  exerted  them- 
selves, and  several  who  had  been  active  in  the  demo- 
lition of  the  ambassadors'  houses,  had  been  commit- 
ted. On  Monday  the  populace  began  to  destroy  the 
houses  of  the  magistrates  and  other  persons  who  had 
been  instrumental  in  apprehending  them,  but  these 
outrages,  great  as  they  were,  fell  short  of  those  com- 
mitted on  the  two  following  days,  which  will  ever 
remain  a  stain  on  the  British  annals ;  fresh  insults  of 
the  most  daring  and  aggravated  nature,  were  offered 
to  parliament,  and  London  exhibited,  in  many  placesy 
the  image  of  a  city  recently  stormed  and  sacked  ; 
every  quarter  was  alarmed;  neither  age  noi  sex,  nor 
eminence   of  station  nor  sanction  of  character,  nor 

Vol.  IL  No.  1G.  L3 


450  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL  | 

even  an  humble  though  honest  obscurity  were  any 
protection  against  the  malevolent  fury  and  destructive 
rage  of  the  vile  barrditti,  who  had  now  collected. 

But  it  was  not  against  individuals  alone,  that  their 
operations  were  now  directed.     What  has  ever  been 
in  all  ages  and  all  countries,  the  last  effort  of  the  most 
desperate  conspirators,  was  now  their  object.     The 
goals  were  attacked,    the  felons  released,  and  men  S 
whose  lives  their  crimes  had  forfeited  to  the  justice  of 
the  law,  were  set  loose  to  join  their  impious  hands 
in  the   work.     The  city   was  now  fired  in  different  I 
parts,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  general  horror  and  con-  1 
fusion,  in  order  more  effectually  to  prevent  the  ex-  1 
tinguishing  of  the  flames,  an  attempt  to  cut  off  the  ; 
new  river  water,  and  an  attack  on  the  credit  of  the 
kingdom,  by  an  attempt  against  the  bank  of  Eng- 
land were  made.     Providentially,  however,  for  the 
British  nation,    they  were    checked  in   their  career 
by  the  arrival  of  the  military,  who  now  poured  into 
the  city  from   all  quarters.     Orders  were  issued  by 
the  king  in  council,  for  the  military  to  act  without 
waiting  for  directions  from  the  civil  magistrates,  and 
to  use  force  for  dispersing  the  illegal  and  tumultuous  . 
assemblies  of  the  people.     As  soon  as  the  troops  be- 
gan to  act  with  vigour  agreeably  to  their  orders,  the 
different  mobs  were  speedily  dispersed,  and  the  rio- 
ters scattered,  but  in   the  effecting  of  this  service, 
about  500  people  were  killed  and  severely  wounded. 

Religion,  the  sacred  name  of  religion,  and  of  that 
most  peaceable  system  of  Christianity,  the  protestant 
church,  was  made  the  profane  pretext  for  assaulting 
the  government,  trampling  upon  the  laws  of  the 
country,  and  violating  the  first  great  precept  of  their  1 
duty  to  God,  and  to  their  neighbours.  The  pretext 
— for  there  can  be  none  so  weak,  so  uncandid,  or  so 
-unjust  to  the  character  of  the  reformed  church,  as  to 
believe,  that  any  religious  motives,  could,  by  any 
perversioa  of  human  reason,  induce  men,  to  attack 
maeistrates,  release   ^'^lon'*?     H^cf-mv   *H^    ponrre  of 

i 

i 


l^ACilONARY.  451 

public  credit,  and  laj^^ashes  t|^e  ca^jyt^  f>f  Ifl^^ 
testant  feith.  ,r  ,  .      ,:  ,  ,,■         ,/l 

From  the  8th  of  June,  the  riots  were  totally  at  an, 
end,  and  every  thing  remained  quiet.  A  number  of 
persons  were  taken  up ;  and  about  5  o^cloc}:,  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  10th,  lord  George  Gordon,  was  se- 
cured and  conveyed  to  the  Tower.  On  the  5th  of 
February,  1781,  he  was  brought  to  trial,  and  acquit- 
ted ;  a  circumstance,  no  doubt,  fortunate  for  the  tran- 
quillity of  the  nation  : — for,  had  he  been  committed, 
it  is  hardly  possible  to  believe,  that  those  men,  who 
had  been  guided  all  along,  by  the  phrenzy  of  enthusi- 
asm, would  have  submitted  without  clamour,  to  a 
punishment,  which  they  would  have  conceived  to 
be  unmerited.  Great  rejoicings  were  made  in  Scot- 
land on  the  occasion,  and  a  considerable  sum  collea- 
ted,  to  reimburse  his  expences. 

Nothing  very  remarkable  appears  in  the  history  of 
his  lordship,  till  the  year  1784-,  when  government, 
having  resolved,  to  restore  to  the  descendants  of  the 
original  owners,  the  estates,  which  had  been  forfeited, 
by  the  rebellion  of  1745,  he  immediately  protested 
against  the  measure,  and  wrote  a  petition  to  the 
bowse  of  Lords,  in  which,  amongst  other  things,  he 
observed,  "  that  the  people,  groaned  most  heavily, 
under  a  great  burthen  of  taxes ;  heavier  and  greater, 
than  in  any  former  reign,  and  that  it  became  the  le- 
gislature, to  relieve  their  immediate  wants,  rather  than 
to  confer  emoluments  upon  men,  who  had  abandon- 
ed their  own  country,  on  account  of  their  attachment 
to  arbitrary  power,  and  had  since  lavished  their  blood 
and  treasure,  in  fighting  for  the  despots  of  Europe. 
That  his  own  disaffection  to  his  majesty's  different 
administrations,  for  these  ten  years  past,  arose  from 
his  sincere  abhorrence  of  their  principles,  their  poli- 
tics, and  their  practices,  foreign  and  domestic  ;  and 
that  he  could  not  now  take  the  oaths  to  government, 
with  a  clear  conscience,  as  the  law  stands,,  even  to 
save  his  life.     And  that,  as  none  of  these  expatriated^ 


4#i|^  KLW    BICGRAI*«ICAL 

nobler,  had  ev'er  distinguished  themselves,  in  the 
cause  of  freedom,  the  people  had  reason  to  suspect, 
that^bpth  their  changing  their  allegiance  from  the 
house  of  ^iuari^  and  the  unexpected  favour  shewn 
thenn  by  the  court,  were  owing  to  administration's 
adopting  those  tyrannical  principles,  for  which  the 
chiefs  had  been  expelled  from  Britain."  •,'!/-);( 

Puring  the  same  year,  when  the  emperor  of  Crcr* 
inapy  was  threatning  to  deprive  the  Dutch  of  the 
navigation  of  the  Scheldt,  and,  for  that  purpose,  was 
drawing  together  his  numerous  armies,  towards  the 
irontiers  of  Holland,  Lord  George,  whose  imagina* 
tion  ~  w!as  constantly  haunted  with  the  horrors  of  po- 
pci^y,, began  to  spread  abroad,  that  the  emperor's 
views  w^ere  hostile  to  the  prolestant  interest,  and,  not- 
'withstanding  the  horrid  calamities  w^hich  had  already 
been  occasioned  to  his  country,  by  the  frantic  zeal  of 
himself  and  party,  he  again,  as  president  of  the  asso- 
ciation, sounded  the  tocsin  of  alarm  and  conjured  up 
those  phantoms  w^iich  had  so  lately  been  the  ostensi- 
ble pretext  of  such  disgraceful  outrages  in  the  British 
rnetr^pplis.  In  the  fervor  of  his  holy  zeal  for  the  good 
cause, r.he  sent  memorials  to  the  different  States  of 
Europe,  addressed  the  protestants  of  every  denomina- 
tion, and  without  any  authority  or  commission  from 
government,  was  negociating  with  seamen  and  sol- 
diers to  fight  the  battles  of  the  Dutch.  At  such  pro- 
€  c^^dings  the  administration  ^^'as  greatly  alarmed,  but 
they  were  soon  after  relieved  from  their  fears,  by  a 
<.om promise  having  taken  place  between  the  Dutch 
Jind  ^the  emperor. 

When  the  m/mistry  had  laid  a  duty  on  Scotch  dis- 
tilleries, almost  amounting  to  a  prohibition,  lord 
George  wrote  circular  letters  to  all  the  towns  in  Great 
Britain,  which  by  their  petitions  and  remonstrances, 
cor^peJled  the  ministry  to  modify  and  alter  their  dar- 
jing  scheme.  He  opposed,  with  various  success,  the 
tax  on  windows,  candles,  stamps,  postage,  &c.  and 
though  his  efforts  were  not  equal  to  his  wishes,  yet 


DICTIONARY.  45^ 

they  certainly  ?inswered  as  a  powerful  ch4?cfc  lipon  the 
encroaching  spirit  of  the  minister. 

Lord  George  was  the  first  to  oppose  with  firmnessf 
and  constancy,  the  shop  tax  ;  he  summoned  meetings 
in  various  parts  of  the  country,  and  distributed  hand- 
bills through  the  4Sity,  reprobating  its  partiality  anS^^ 
injustice  ;  but  as  weak  parents  idolize  their  own  chiK-  ' 
dren,  however  vicious  or  decrepid  they  may  be,  ^^ 
was  the  minister  inveterately  attached  to  this  favorite 
offspring  of  his  inventive  genius.  Lord  George  went 
along  the  city,  prevailing  upon  the  people  to  shut 
their  shops  and  put  up  long  poles  with  black  crap^, 
and  this  inscription,  '^  This  shop  to  be  let,  inquire  of 
Billy  Pitt."  This  perseverance  gave  uneasiness  to 
the  cabinet,  and  they  were  obliged  at  length,  to  grant 
to  fear,  what  they  had  so  long  refused  to  justice. 

It  will  not  be  expected  in  a  memoir  of  ihis  kind, 
that  we  should  follow  this  extraordinary  man  through 
X\\p.  various  active  scenes  in  which  he  was  perpetually 
engaged,  for  like  the  troubled  ocean,  he  was  never 
at  rest.  To  every  measure  of  administration,  he  was" 
uniformly  opposed,  and  though  his  conduct,  in  this 
respect,  might  have  sometimes  proceeded  from  an  un- 
conquerable aversion  to  tyranny,  yet,  even  his  friends 
must  acknowledge,  that  he  frequently  occasioned 
great  uneasiness  to  minivSters,  by  interfering  in  mattefs 
with  which  he  had  no  concern,  and  that,  upon  ofhef 
occasions,  the  methods  he  used  to  effect  a  redress  o|^ 
grievances,  were,  by  no  means,  compatible  with'thfe  ' 
public  tranquillity.    "  ^^imoiqm 

Lord  George,  for  a  long  time,  had  regularly  attend'- ' 
cd  the  lectures  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  YVilson,  an  eminent 
dissenting  clergyman,  for  whom  he  had  contracted  a 
very  sincere  esteem.  Mr.  Wilson  fell  sick,  and  in 
his  dying  moments,  was  attended  by  lord  George. 
As  he  made  no  v.'ill,  a  dispute  arose  about  his  pro- 
perty, and  it  was  neces^sary  that  lord  George's  depo- 
sition should  be  taken  in  the  Bishop's  court.  He  of- 
fered to  appear  bcfjre  a  civil  nnglstrale,  but  object- 


iSi  NE'vV    EIOGRAPHICAJL 


ed  to  an  ecclesiastic,  partly  from  conscientious  norr- 
conformity,  and  partly  from  political  motives.     The 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  wishing  to  compromise 
the  matter,  proposed  to  walit  on  his  lordship,  at  his 
own  liouse,  but  as  his  lordship's  object  was  to  make 
h  a  nation?.]  question,  this  condescension  of  his  grace 
had  no  effect  upon  his  conduct.  After  many  fruitless 
endeavours  to  induce  him  to  submit,  he  was  excom- 
municnted  in  May  1786.     He  laughed  at  their  pro- 
ceedings,  and  only  observed,    that  "  to  expel  him 
from  a  society  to  which  hfe  never  belonged,  was  an- 
-absurdity  w^orthy  of  an  Archbishop." 
^'  But  the  career  of  this  trulv  eccentric  character,  was 
rjfiow  hastening  to  a  close.     This  very  man,  who  had 
^^'-'^o  long  been  venerated  by  the  giddy  and  unthinking 
^Wultitudc  as  the  redoubted  hero  ot  the  protestant  faith, 
feegan  to  entertain  serious   doubts   concerning   the 
truths  of  the  whole  christian  system,  and  pretending 
to  have  observed,  •'  that  its  professors  were  both  at 
-^Hrariance  with  revelation  and  reason,  whilst  the  Jews 
'''literally  adhered  to  the  laws  ot   Moses,"  embraced 
•'Judaism.     To  this  extraordinary  and  almost  unprece- 
'^ented  step,  in  Great  Britain,  must  be  attributed  his 
^future  degradation  ;  for  it  was  literally  signing  his  po- 
'Titical  death.     Nothing  could  have  given   greater  sa- 
'^'^tisfaction  at  St.  James's,  nor  have  tended  more  to 
'\  liave  estranged  the  affections  of  the  people,  by  some 
'bf  whom  he  was  now  considered  as  hypocritical,  tur- 
bulent, and  am.bitious,  whilst  others  imputed  his  con- 
Version   to  mental  derangement. 

It  was  no  sooner  universally  believed,   tl^at  he  had 

embraced  Judaism,  than  the  courts  of  Versailles  and 

London,  determined  to  prosecute  him  ;  the   former, 

"for  a  libel  against  the  Queen  of  France,  and  the  other, 

^^•^or  a    seditious  pamphlet,    relative    to    Botany-Bay. 

'^Tcr  both   of  these,  he  was  brought  to  trial,  early  in 

^'^<^i787,  and  found  GuiUij.     Though  lord  George,  had 

^•"^^xperienced  a  great  alteration  in  the  disposition   of 

■^fee  people  towards  him,  in  cohsequetice  of  his  recent 


1 


j 


DICTIONARY,  455 

conversion,  it  was  still  doubtful,  if  gorernn:ient  would 
judge  it  prudent  to  punish  him  ;  and  this  accounts  for 
the  very  extraordinary  circumstance  of  his  being  per- 
mitted to  withdraw  without  bail,  after  a  verdict  of 
guilt  had  been  pronounced  against  him.  Thinking 
it  dangerous,  however^  to  continue  in  Engknd.^  and 
being  desirous,  if  possible,  to  avoid  the  storm,  he  re- 
tired to  Holland  ;  where,  though  he  was  at  first  well 
received,  by  the  principal  revolutionists,  he  w^s  i^t 
long  permitted  to  continue,  as  he  was  ordered  t<p^quit 
their  territory  at  a  very  short  notice.  ; 

He  got  over  to  Harwich,  27th  July,  11  Bt^  from 
whence,  he  returned,  iii-cog.  to  Birmingham,  and  re- 
sided at  the  house  oi  a  Jew,  distinguished  by  a  Jong 
^^beard,  and  a  broad  shaded  hat.     He  strictly  adhered 
to  the  religious  ceremonies  of  his  new  brethren  ;  un- 
derwent the  operation  of  circumcision,  and  was  called 
by  the    name    of    Israel  Abraham  George  Gcyrdan. 
♦  JBut,  though   he  was  much  admired  by  many  of  his 
-  associates,  and  looked  upon,  by  some,  as  a  second 
:  Moses,  he  was  not  allowed  to  enjoy  repose  ;  for  his 
landlord  betrayed  him,  for  a  sum  of  money,  in  con- 
seqence  of  which,   he  was  apprehended  on  the   7th 
December,  and  conducted  as  a  prisoner  to  London. 
Upon  the  28th  of  January,  i788,  he  received  sentence 
to    be   imprisoned    in   Newgate,    for  the   space   of 
five  years,  and  at  the  expiration  of  that  time,  to  pay  a 
fine  of  2220  dollars,    and    to   find  securities  for  his 
good  behaviour  for  fourteen  years;  himself,  in  forty- 
four  thousand  four  hundred  dollars,  and  two  sureties 
in  eleven  thousand  dollars  each. 

From  the  time  of  his  confinement  in  Newgate, 
though  he  was  liberal  to  others  of  a  different  way  of 
thinking,  yet,  as  he  conformed  to  all  the  outward  ce- 
remonies of  the  ancient  Fathers  himself,  he  expected 
the  same  conformity  from  those,  who  professed  a  si- 
milar faith.  This  practice,  to  which  he  invariably 
adhered,  induced  him  to  refuse  adniittance  to  all  those 
Jews>  who,  m  compliance  with  the  modern  .customs. 


45(5  NEW.BIOGRAPHICAL' 

shaved  their  beards,  and  uncovered  their  heads.  In 
a  political  sense,  however,  lord  George's  compliance 
with  the  laws  of  Moses  proved  fatal  to  his  interest. 
The  rich  Jews,  who,  at  first,  visited  him,  in  great 
numbers,  being  incensed  at  the  freedom  of  his  reproofs, 
joined  in  the  general  opinion  of  his  being  insane,  and 
saw  him  no  more. 

In  July  1789,  the  news  of  the  destruction  of  the 
Bastile,  having  reached  England,  he  wrote  a  petition 
to  the  National  Assembly  of  France,  praying  that  bo- 
dy, to  solicit  his  liberation  from  the  court  of  London. 
iiuti  the  committee  to  whom  the  petition  was  refer- 
red, reported,  that  "  there  was  no  ground  for  delibe- 
rating on  his  request^  and,  that  being  a  foreigner, 
and  detained  in  the  pri'sons  of  England,  he  should 
apply  for  redress,  to  the  tribunal  of  that  kingdom." 
This  circumstance,  however,  gave  rise  to  a  corres- 
pondence between  him  and  Gregoire,  a  leading  mem- 
ber of  the  Assembly,  and,  though  his  lordship  was, 
at  that  time,  generally  considered  3Lsi?isa?iey  no  opi- 
nion-of  that  kind,  could  possibly  be  formed,  from  a 
perusal  of  his  letters,  upon  this  occasion.  He  also 
wrote  a  petition  to  Louis,  who  is  said  to  have  promis- 
ed immediate  relief:  but,  whether  his  majesty  was 
sincere  in  his  professions,  or  the  court  of  London, 
thinking  it  dangerous,  to  set  such  a  man  at  liberty, 
lent  a  deaf  ear  to  the  French  king's  application,  in 
his  favour,  is  uncertain.  He  was  still,  however,  con- 
fined amongst  the  felons  in  Newgate. 

Upon  the  28th  of  January,  1793,  when  the  term 
of  his  imprisonment  had  expired,  he  went,  accom- 
panied by  a  number  of  his  friends,  to  the  court  of 
King's  Bench,  to  give  in  the  requisite  securities  ;  and 
appeared  in  a  long  beard,  with  his  head  covered. 
The  crowd  was  so  great,  that  he  entered  with  dif- 
ficulty ;  and  as  scon  as  the  judges  had  taken  their 
seats,  they  ordered  his  hat  to  be  taken  off.  Upon 
which,  he  very  deliberately  bound  his  head  round 
with  a  three  coloured  handkerchief,  in  form  of  a  tur- 


DICTIONARY.  457 

ban  ;  a  circumstance,  which,  though  trifling  in  it- 
self, could  not,  at  that  period,  have  been  viewed 
with  indiffeTence  by  the  judges  ;  and  which  shewed, 
in  the  clearest  light,  that  the  proud  spirit  of  the  pri- 
soner, was  not,  as  yet,  broken.  He  then  addressed 
the  court,  in  a  very  pertinent  speech,  with  respect 
to  tlie  quahncations  of  his  intended  bail  ;  but  as  go- 
vernment appeared  to  have  been  determined,  tnat 
his  Jordship  should,  if  possible,  be  confined  for  life, 
they  were  rejected.  He  was,  of  course,  remanded 
to  Newgate,  where  he  died,  1st  November,  1793, 
of  a  malignant  fever,  which  had  for  some  time  raged 
amongst  the  felons.  The  dreary  hours  of  his  con- 
finement, were  devoted  to  reading,  writing,  conver- 
sation with  friends,  who  came  to  visit  him  ;  or  amus- 
ing himself  with  his  violin,  on  which,  as  well  as  on 
several  other  instruments,  he  was  a  good  performer. 
No  man  was  more  beloved  by  his  fellow-prisoners* 
than  lord  George.  He  divided  his  substance  with 
those  who  had  no  money,  and  did  every  thing  in  his 
power  to  alleviate  their  distress.  He  clothed  th^ 
naked,  and  fed  the  hungry  ;  but  his  fortune  was 
inadequate  to  relieve  all  their  wants. 

The  behaviour  of  this  extraordinary  character,  to- 
wards the  close  of  his  life,  is  thus  described  by  his 
biographer,  Robert  Watson,  M.  D.  *'  A  gentleman 
asked  him,  if  he  chose  a  minister  of  any  religion  to 
attend  him,  but  he  declined,  saying  ^he  had  led  such 
a  life,  as  made  him  not  afraid  to  die.'  About  the 
eighth  day  of  his  illness,  I  acquainted  him  with  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  late  Queen  of  France  ;  upon  which, 
he  very  emphatically  said,  '  that  she  was  not  the  last 
of  the  royal  corps,  that  would  fall  victims  to  the 
guillotine.'  A  few  hours  before  his  death,  he  repeat- 
edly exclaimed,  *ODake!  Duke!!'  and  after  sing- 
ing Ca  Ira,  bade  the  world  an  eternal  adieu."   "- 


If^M).  \Q,  Ms  ^•^^''^ 


458  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


1 


GREENE,  (Nathaniel)  Major  General  of  the 
forces  of  the  United  States,  was  born  in  the  town  of 
Warwick,  in  Kent  county,  Rhode-Island,  in  or  about 
the  year  174J,  and  was  descended  from  some  of  the 
first  settlers,  in  that  government.  His  father  was  an 
anchor-smith,  and  was  extensively  concerned  in  some 
very  lucrative  iron  works,  and  also  in  shipping.  His 
son  Nathaniel,  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  being 
prompted  by  a  laudable  ambition  for  knowledge, 
learned  the  Latin  language,  when  a  boy,  chiefly  by 
his  own  industry.  He,  likewise,  procured  a  small  li- 
brary, by  the  perusal  of  which,  he,  in  a  short  time, 
greatly  improved  his  mind.  Little  remarkable  is 
transmitted  of  his  more  early  years,  except,  that  he 
was  particularly  fond  of  military  history,  to  the  study 
of  which  he  devoted  a  great  part  of  his  time  and 
attention. 

Being  endowed  with  a  great  degree  of  judgment 
and  penetration,  and,  at  the  same  time,  possessed 
of  the  most  affable  and  conciliating  manners,  he 
soon  acquired  a  very  considerable  share  of  public 
confidence,  in  consequence  of  which,  he  was,  when 
a  young  man,  chosen  a  member  of  assembly  of  the 
then  colony  of  Rhode-Island.  This  trust,  in  which 
he  gave  the  highest  satisfaction  to  his  constituents, 
he  continued  to  possess,  until  the  commencement  of 
hostilities  between  this  country  and  Great  Britain. 

After  the  skirmishes  of  Lexington  and  Concord, 
when  a  spirit  of  resistance  was  diffused  almost  instan- 
taneously over  the  whole  continent,  Rhode-Island  w^as 
not  deficient  in  her  contributions  for  the  general  de- 
fence. She  raised  three  regiments  of  n»litia,  the 
command  of  which  was  given  to  Mr.  Greene,  who 
v;as  nominated  brigadier  general,  and  wno,  though 
educated  in  the  pacific  principles  of  quakerism, 
thought  himself  called  by  the  peculiarity  of  the  times, 
to  take  an  active  part  in  defence  of  the  liberties  of  his 
country.  Upon  his  assuming  the  military  character, 
the  quakers  renounced  all  connection  with  him  as  a 


DICTIONARY.  459^ 

member  of  their  rellgioas  body,  and  as  is  usual  in  such 
cases,  read  him  out  oF  their  meeting. 

As  soon  as  he  had  coHected  his  troops,  he  led  them 
to  Cambridge,  and  was  the  first  of  the  generals  of 
New  England,  who  testified  his  regard  for  the  illustri- 
ous Washington,  by  addressing  him  on  his  arrival 
and  appointment  as  commander  in  chief,  and  declar- 
ing the  high  satisfaction  he  should  feel  in  serving  un- 
der his  command.  On  the  17th  March,  i776,  he 
was  present  at  the  evacuation  of  Boston,  by  a  force, 
which,  in  England,  had  been  vauntingly  stated  as  tre- 
ble the  number,  which  would  be  requisite  to  dragoon 
America,  into  unconditional  submission. 

General  Greene's  merit  and  abilities,  as  well  in  the 
council  as  in  the  field,  could  not  long  escape  the  pe- 
netrating eye  of  general  Waijhington,  who  reposed 
in  him  the  utmost  confidence,  and  paid  a  particular 
attention  to  his  advice  and  opinion,  on  all  difficult  oc- 
casions. This  excited  the  jealousy  of  several  officers 
of  superior  rank,  who  were  not  wanting  in  their  en- 
deavours to  supplant  him.  Their  efl^orts,  however, 
were  ineffectual,  as  the  commander  in  chief  knew  his 
worth  and  prized  it  as  it  deserved. 

He  was  appointed  Major  General  by  congress,- 
26th  August,  1776,  and  on  the  26th  December  of 
the  same  year,  he  was  present  at  the  capture  of  the 
Hessians  at  Trenton,  and  on  the  2d  January  follow- 
ing, at  the  battle  ot  Princeton,  two  enterprizes  not 
more  happily  planned,  than  judiciously  and  bravely 
executed  ;  in  both  of  which,  general  Greene  highly 
distinguished  himself,  serving  his  noviciate  under  the 
American  Fabius.  At  the  battle  of  Germantown^ 
4th  October,  1777,  he  commanded  the  left  wing  of 
the  American  army,  and  his  utmost  endeavours  were 
exerted  to  retrieve  the  fortune  of  that  day,  in  whiclx 
his  conduct  met  with  the  entire  approbation  of  the 
commander  in  chief. 

in  March,  1778,  he  was  appointed  Quarter-master- 
general,  which  office  he  accepted  under  a  stipulation^ 


460  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

that  his  rank  In  the  army  should  not .  thereby  be 
affected,  and,  that  he  should  retain  his  right  to  com- 
mand in  time  of  action,  according  to  his  rank  and  se« 
niority.  This  he  exercised  on  the  28th  June  of  th 
same  year,  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  where  he  com?j 
inanded  the  right  wing  of  the  army. 

Soon  after  this,  an  attack  being  planned  by  the 
Americans,  in  conjunction  with  the  French  fleet, 
against  the  British  garrison  at  Newport,  Rhode-Isl- 
and, general  Sullivan  was  appointed  to  the  command, 
under  whom  general  Greene  served.  This  attempt 
however,  was  unsuccessful ;  for  the  French  fleet  hav- 
ing sailed  out  of  harbour,  to  engage  lord  Howe,  were 
dispersed  by  a  storm,  in  consequence  of  which,  th^ 
Americans  were  obliged  to  raise  the  siege,  and  upon 
this  occasion,  general  Greene  displayed  a  great  de- 
gree of  skill  in  drawing  off"  the  army  in  safety. 

The  British  generals,  finding  at  last,  that  their  hopes 
of  executing  some  decisive  stroke  to  the  northward, 
^vere  entirely  frustrated,  turned  their  attention  to  the 
southern  states,  as  less  capable  of  defence,  and  more 
likely  to  reward  their  invaders  with  plunder.  A  grand 
expedition  was,  therefore,  planned  at  Nevi^-York, 
where  the,. army  embarked  on  the  26th  December, 
1779.  Thiy  landed  on  the  12th  February,  1780, 
within  about  30  miles  of  Charlestown,  which,  after  a 
brave  defence,  was  surrendered  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
on  the  1 1th  of  May.  A  series  of  ill  success  followed 
this  unfortunate  event.  The  American  arms,  in 
South-Carolina,  ,were  in  general  unsuccessful  3  and 
the  inhabitants  were  obliged  to  submit  to  the  invaders, 
whose  impolitic  severity,  was  extremely  ill  calculated 
to  answer  any  of  the  objects  for  which  the  war  had 
been  commenced. 

Affairs  were  thus  circumstanced,  when  general 
Greene  was  aopointed  to  the  command  of  the  Ame- 
rican forces  in  the  southern  district.  He  arrived  at 
Charlotte,  on  the  2d  day  of  December,  1780,  accom- 
panied by  general  Morgan,  a  brave  officer,  who  had 


DICTIONARY.  461 

distinguished  himself  to  the  northward,  at  the 
capture  of  general  Burgoyne.  He  fouad  the  for- 
ces he  was  to  command,  reduced  to  a  very  small  num- 
jj^ber,  by  defeat  and  desertion.  The  returns  were 
nine  hundred  and  seventy  nine  continentals,  and  one 
thousand  and  thirteen  militia.  Military  stores,  pro- 
x^isions,  forage  and  all  things  necessary,  were,  if  pos- 
sible, in  a  more  reducf  d  state  than  his  army.  His 
men  were  without  pay  and  almost  without  clothing  ; 
and  supplies  of  the  latter  were  not  to  be  had,  but 
from  a  distance  of  two  hundred  miles.  In  this  peri- 
lous and  embarrassed  situation,  he  had  to  oppose  a 
respectable  and  victorious  army.  Fortunately  for  him, 
the  conduct  of  some  of  the  friends  of  royalty  obliged 
numbers,  otherwise  disposed,  to  remain  neuter,  to 
take  up  arms  in  their  own  defence.  This,  and  the 
prudent  measures  the  general  took,  for  removing  the 
innumerable  difficulties,  with  which  he  was  surroun<l- 
ed,  and  for  conciliating  the  affections  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, soon  brought  together  a  considerable  force, 
far  inferior,  however,  to  that  of  the  British,  who  deem- 
ed the  country  perfectly  subjugated. 

After  he  had  recruited  his  forces  with  all  the  friends 
to  the  revolution,  whom  he  could  assemble,  he*  sent  a 
considerable  detachment  under  general  Morgan,  to 
the  western  extremities  of  the  state,  to  protect  the 
well  disposed  inhabitants  from  the  ravages  of  the  to- 
nes. This  force,  which  was  the  first,  that  had,  for  a 
considerable  time  appeared  there,  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans,  inspired  the  friends  of  liberty  vv^ith  new 
courage,  so  that  numbers  of  them  crowded  to  the 
standard  of  general  Morgan,  who,  at  lengtli,  became 
so  formidable,  that  lord  Cornwallis  thought  proper  to 
send  colonel  Tarleton,  to  dislodge  him  from  the  station 
he  had  taken.  This  officer,  who  was  at  the  head  of 
a  thousand  regular  troops,  and  had  two  field  pieces, 
came  up  on  the  17th  January,  1781,  at  a  place  called 
Cowpens,  with  general  Morgan,  whose  force  was 
considerably  inferior,  and  composed  of  two  thirds  mi- 


462  HEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 


J 


litia,  and  one  third  continentals.  An  engagemen^was 
the  inimediate  consequence. 
.n3Ch©  fere.vky  of  this  sketch,  wiii  not  allow  a  detail  of 
the  dispositions  made  on  either  side.  Let  it  sufFice,  # 
therefore,  to  say,  that  the  brave  Morgan  gained  a 
complete  victory.  Upwards  of  five  hundred  of  the 
British  were  made  prisoners  ;  a  very  considerable 
nugi her  were  killed  :  eight  hundred  stand  of  arms, 
twonftejdi pijQCcs,  and  thirty-five  baggage  waggons  fell 
into  the  hands  o(  the  victors,  who  had  only  twelve  J 
killed  and  sixty  wounded.  * 

Thi^-^rilliant  success  quite  disconcerted  the  plan 
of  operation  formed  by  lord  Cornwaiiis,  who,  having 
entertained  no  idea  of  any  enemy  to  oppose  him  in 
South-Carolina,  the  conquest  of  which  he  deemed 
complete,  had  made  every  preparation  for  carrying 
his  arms  to  the  northward,  to  gather  the  laurels 
wMch,  he  imagined,  awaited  him  in  that  quarter,  1 
But  as  he  now  found  himself  obliged  to  postpone  that 
design,  he  marched  with  rapidity  after  general  Mor- 
gan, in  hopes  not  only  of  recovering  the  prisoners, 
but  also  of.revem^ino^Tarleton's  losses.  The  Amerl- 
can  general,  by  a  rapidity  of  movements,  and  the  in- 
terference of  providence,  eJuded  his  efforts;  and  ge- 
neral C>reene  effected  a  junction  of  the  two  divisions 
of  his  little  army,  on  the  7th  of  February.  Still,  how- 
ever, he  was  so  far  inferior  to  lord  Cornwaiiis,  that 
he  was  obliijed  to  retreat  northward,  and  notwith- 
Standing  the  vigilance  and  activity  of  his  enemy,  he 
brought  his  men  in  safety  into  Virginia. 

Here  he  received  some  reinforcements,  and  having 
'  the  promise  of  more,  he  again  returned  into  North  Ca- 
rolina, where  he  was  hopeful,  upon  their  arrival,  of 
being  able  to  act  upon  the  offensive.  He  encamped 
in  the  vicinity  of  Lord  Cornwaliis's  army,  and  by  a  va- 
riety of  the  best  manoeuvres,  so  judiciously  supported 
thear.^mgementof  his  troops,  that  during  three  weeks, 
■while  the  enemy  remained  near  him,  he  prevented 
tbcni  from  taking  any  advantage  of  their  superiority. 


DICTIONARY,  463* 

and  even  cut  off  all  opportunity  of  their  receiving 
succour  from  the  royalists.  t~'  > 

About  the  beginning  of  March,  having  effected  a 
junction  with  a  continental  regiment,  and  two  con- 
•isiderable  bodies  ot  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  mili- 
tia, he  determined  to  attack  the  British  Commanddr 
without  loss  of  time,  "  being  persuaded,"  as  he  de- 
clared in  his  subsequent  dispatches,  "  that  if  he  was 
successful,  it  would  prove  ruinous  to  the  enemy,  and 
if  otherwise,  that  it  would  be  but  a  partial  evil  to 
him."  On  the  14th,  he  arrived  at  Guilford  court-house 
the  British  then  lying  at  twelve  miles  distance. 

General  Greene's  army  now  consisted  of  about 
four  thousand  five  hundred  men,  of  whom  nearly  two 
thirds  were  North  Carolina  and  Virginia  militia  ;  the 
British  w^ere  about  two  thousand  four  hundred  ;  all 
regular  troops,  and  the  greater  part  inured  to  toil  and 
service  in  their  long  expedition  under  Lord  Cornwal- 
]is,  who,  on  the  morning  of  the  15th  being  apprized 
of  General  Greene's  intentions,  marched  to  meet  him. 
The  latter  disposed  his  army  in  three  lines  :  the  militia 
of  North  Carolina  were  in  front,  the  second  line  wa^ 
composed  of  those  of  Virginia,  and  the  third,  whicli 
was  the  flower  of  the  arrny^  was  formed  of  continental 
troops,  nearly  fifteen  hundred  in  number.  They  were 
flanked  on  both  sides  by  cavalry  and  riflemen,  and 
•>  -were  posted  on  a  rising  ground,  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  Guilford  court-house. 

The  engagement  commenced  at  half  an  hour  after 
one  o'clock,  by  a  brisk  cannonade,  after  v^-hich  the  Bri- 
tish advanced  in  three  columns,  and  attacked  the  first 
line,  composed,  as  we  have  already  observed,  of  North 
Carolina  militia.  Those  who  probably  had  never  been  in 
action  before,  were  panic  struck  at  the  approach  of 
the  enemy,  and  many  of  them  ran  away  even  without 
firing  a  gun  ;  part  of  them,  however,  fired  ;  but  they 
immediately  followed  the  example  of  their  comrades. 
Their  officers  made  every  possible  effort  to  rally  thetrj^, 
but  neither  the  advantage  of  their  position,  nor   aaj. 


Mi  »EW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

other  consideration  could  induce  them  to  maintain 
th^ir  ground.  This  shameful  cowardice  had  a  great 
effect  upon  the  issue  of  the  battle.  The  next  lines, 
however,  behaved  much  better.  They  fought  with 
great  bravery,  and  after  they  were  thrown  into  disor-  ■• 
der,  rallied,  returned  to  the  charge,  and  kept  up  a 
heavy  fire  for  along  time  ;  "but  were  at  length  broken 
and  driven  on  the  third  line,when  the  engagement  be- 
came general,  very  severe  and  very  bloody.  At  length 
superiority  of  discipline  got  the  better  of  superiority  of 
numbers.  The  conflict  endured  an  hour  and  a  half, 
when  General  Greene,  finding  that  the  enemy  were 
on  the  point  of  encircling  his  troops,  judged  it  pru- 
dent to  order  a  retreat. 

This  was  a  hard  tough t  action.  Lord  Cornwallis 
stated  his  losses,  in  killed,  wounded  and  missing,  at 
five  hundred  and  thirty-two,  among  whom  were  seve- 
ral oflicers  of  considerable  rank.  The  loss  of  the 
Americans  was  about  four  hundred,  killed  and  wound* 
ed.  However,  this  was  not  so  severely  felt,  as  the 
desertion  of  a  considerable  number  of  rnilitia,  who 
fled  homewards  and  came  no  more  near  the  army. 
To  those  who  are  used  to  consider  the  thousands 
killed  on  the  plains  of  Germany,  very  frequently  with- 
out producing  any  visible  effect  on  the  fate  of  a  war, 
the  number  here  mentioned  must  appear  insignificant. 
But  this  battle  was,  nevertheless,  decisive  in  its  con- 
sequences; for  though  his  lordship  had  issued  a  pro- 
clamation, setting  forth  his  complete  victory  and  call- 
ing on  all  loyal  subjects  to  take  an  active  part  in  re- 
storing good  government,  yet  on  the  19th  he  was 
obliged  to  begin  a  retrogade  movement  and  to  return 
to  Wilmington,  which  is  situated  at  a  distance  of 
two  hundred  miles  from  the  place  of  action.  He  was 
even  under  the  necessity  of  abandoning  his  hospital, 
containing  betvv'een  seventy  and  eighty  wounded  Bri- 
tish officers  and  soldiers,  besides  all  the  wounded 
Americans  taken  at  Guilford  court-house.  General 
Greene  expected  that  Cornwallis  would  have  advan- 


DICTIONARY.  465 

ced,  and  therefore  had  prepared  for  another  action  ; 
but,  upon  hearing  that  his  lordship  attempted  to 
avoid  it,  he  pursued  him  the  next  day,  with  all  pos- 
sible expedition.  In  this  situaition  of  affairs.  General 
Greene  had  no  means  of  providing  for  the  wounded 
either  of  his  own  or  of  the  British  forces ;  but  that 
they  might  not  be  left  to  suffer  by  themselves,  he  wrote 
to  some  neighbouring  quakers,  informing  them  that 
he  had  been  brought  up  in  that  religious  persuasion, 
and  observing,  that  a  good  opportunity  now  presented 
itself  for  the  exercise  of  their  humanity,  without  con- 
fiding themselves  to  either  party,  by  taking  care  of 
the  wounded  both  British  and  American,  who,  w^ith- 
out  such  aid,  must  inevitably  perish.  His  recommenda- 
tion was  productive  of  the  desired  effect ;  for  the  qua- 
kers cheerfully  supplied  the  hospital  with  whatever 
was  wanting,  till  the  sick  and  wounded  recovered. 

Some  time  after  the  battle  of  Guilford,  General 
Greene  determined  to  return  to  South  Carolina  to  en- 
deavor to  expel  the  British  from  that  state.  His  first 
object  was  to  attempt  the  reduction  of  Camden,  where 
Lord  Rawdon  was  posted  with  about  nine  hundred 
men.  The  strength  of  this  place,  which  was  covered 
on  the  South  and  East  sides  by  a  river  and  a  creek, 
and  to  the  ^Vestward  and  Northward  by  six  redoubts, 
rendered  it  impracticable  to  carry  it  by  storm  with 
the  small  army,  which  general  Greene  had,  consist- 
ing of  843  continental  infantry,  besides  56  cavalry 
and  31  mounted  dragoons  together  with  234  North- 
Carolina  militia.  He,  therefore,  encamped  at  about 
a  mile  from  the  town,  in  order  to  prevent  supplies 
from  being  brought  in,  and  to  take  advantage  ot  such 
favourable  circumstances  as  might  occur. 

Lord  Rawdon*s  situation  was  extremely  delicate. 
Colonel  Watson,  whom  he  had  some  time  before  de- 
tached, for  the  protection  of  the  eastern  frontiers,  and 
to  whom  he  had,  on  intelligence  of  general  Greene's 
intentions,  sent  orders  to  return  to  Camden,  was  so 
effectually  watched  by  general  Marian,  that  it  was 

Vol.  II.  No,  16.  Ns 


466  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 


^ 


impossible  for  him  to  obey.     His   lordship's  supplies 
were,  moreover,  very  precarious  and  should  general 
Greene's  reinforcements  arrive,  he  might  be  so  closely 
invested,  as  to  be,  at*  length,  obliged  to  surrender. 
In  this  dilemma,  the  best  expedient,  which  suggested  ' 
itself,  was  a  bold  attack ;  for  which  purposes  he  arm- 
ed every  person  with  him,  capable  of  carrying  a  mus- 
ket,   not    excepting  his    musicians  and    drummers. 
He  sallied  out  on  the  25th  of  April,  and  attacked  ge- 
neral Greene  in  his  camp.     The    defence  was  obsti- 
nate,  and  for  some  part  of  the  engagement,  the  ad* 
vantage  appeared  to  be  in  favour  of  America.     Lieu- 
tenant Colonel  Washington,  v/ho  commanded  the  ca- 
valry, had  at  one  time  not  less  than  two  hundred  Bri- 
tish prisoners.     However,  by  the  misconduct  of  one 
of  the  American  regiments,    victory  was   snatched 
from  general  Greene,  and  he  was  compelled  to  re- 
treat.    He  lost  in  the  action  two  hundred  and  sixty- 
four  in  killed,  wounded  and  prisoners,  and  Rawdon 
lost  two  hundred  and  fifty-eight. 

There  was  a  great  similarity  between  the  conse- 
<5uences  of  the  affair  at  Guilford  and  those  of  this  ac- 
tion. In  the  former.  Lord  Cornwallis  v/as  successful ; 
but  was  afterwards  obliged  lo  retreat  two  hundred 
miles  from  the  scene  of  action  and  for  a  time  aban- 
doned the  grand  object  of  penetrating  to  the  north- 
ward. In  the  latter.  Lord  Rawdon  had  the  honour 
of  the  field  ;  but  was  shortly  after  reduced  to  the  ne- 
cessity of  abandoning  his  post,  and  leaving  behind 
him  a  number  of  sick  and  wounded. 

The  evacuation  of  Camden,  with  the  vigilance  of  ge- 
neral Greene  and  the  several  officers  he  employed,  gave 
a  new  complexion  to  affairs  in  South-Carolina,  where 
the  British  ascendency  declined  more  rapidly,  than 
it  had  been  established.  The  numerous  forts,  garris- 
oned by  the  enemy,  fell,  one  after  the  other,  into  the 
hands  of  the  Americans.  Orangeburgh,  Motte, 
Watson,  Georgetown,  Granby,  and  all  the  others, 
fort  Ninety-six  excepted,  wer«  surrendered,  and  a  ve* 


BfCTIOlfARY.  46T 

ly  considerable  number  of  prisoners  of  war,  with  mi- 
litary stores  and  artillery  were  found  in  them. 

On  the  22d  of  May,  general  Greene  sat  down  be- 
fore Ninety-six,  with  the  main  part  of  his  little  army. 
The  siege  was  carried  on,  for  a  considerable  time, 
with  great  spirit,  and  the  place  was  defended  witb 
equal  bravery.  At  length,  the  worTcs  were  so  far  re- 
duced, that  a  surrender  must  have  been  made  in  a 
few  days,  when  a  reinforcement  of  three  regiments 
from  Europe  arrived  at  Charleston,  which  enabled 
lord  Rawdon  to  proceed  to  relieve  this  important  post. 
The  superiority  of  the  enemy's  force,  reduced  Gene- 
ral Greene  to  the  alternative  of  abandoning  the  siege 
altogether  ;  or,  previous  to  their  arrival,  of  attempt- 
ing the  fort  by  storm.  The  latter  was  more  agreea- 
ble to  his  enterprising  spirit,  and  an  attack  was 
made  on  the  19th  of  June.  He  was  repulsed,  how- 
ever, with  the  loss  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  ;  in 
consequence  of  which,  he  raised  the  siege,  and  re- 
treated over  the  Saluda. 

Dr.  Ramsay,  in  speaking  of  the  state  of  affairs, 
about  this  period,  makes  the  following  observations  : 
"  truly  distressing  was  the  situation  of  the  American 
army,  when  in  the  grasp  of  victory,  to  be  obliged  to 
expose  themselves  to  a  hazardous  assault,  and  after- 
wards to  abandon  the  siege  :  when  they  were  nearly 
masters  of  the  whole  country,  to  be  compelled  to  re- 
treat to  its  extremity  ;  after  subduing  the  greatest 
part  of  the  force  sent  against  them,  to  be  under  the 
necessity  of  encountering  still  greater  reinforcements, 
when  their  remote  situation  precluded  them  from  the 
hope  of  receiving  a  single  recruit.  In  this  gloomy  si- 
tuation, there  were  not  wanting  persons,  who  ad- 
vised general  Greene  to  leave  the  state,  and  retire 
with  his  remaining  forces  to  Virginia.  To  arguments 
and  suggestions  of  this  kind,  he  nobly  replied — "  I 
w^ill  recover  the  country,  or  die  in  the  attempt."  This 
distinguished  officer,  whose  genius  was  most  vigo- 
rous in  those   extremities,  when   feeble  minds  abari- 


468  NEW  'BIOGRAPHICAL 

don  themselves  to  despair,  adopted  the  only  resource^ 
now  left  him,  of  avoiding  an  engagement,  until  the 
British  force  should  be  divided. 

It  was  on  the  20th  of  June,  that  the  American  ar- 
my crossed  the  Saluda,  on  their  way  to  Broad  river, 
and  they  reached  the  Enoree  on  the  24th,  Thus  far 
lord  Rawdon  pursued  them  ;  when,  finding  it  impos* 
sible  to  overtake  them,  he  faced  about,  and  returned  ; 
as  he  consoled  himself  with  the  apprehension  that 
they  were  gone  to  North-Carolina  or  Virginia.  But, 
they  halted  and  refreshed  themselves,  near  the  Cross- 
roads, till  general  Greene  was  informed,  that  his 
]ordship,  with  about  half  his  army,  was  marching  to 
the  Congaree.  Upon  this,  the  American  invalids 
and  heavy  baggage,  filed  off  towards  Camden,  and 
all  the  effective  infantry  marched  towards  Wynsbo- 
rough,  to  meet  his  lordship  at  fort  Granby.  The 
cavalry  was  previously  detached  to  watch  his  motions ; 
and,  this  they  did,  so  effectually,  that  a  party  of  them, 
charged  and  took,  a  captain,  a  lieutenant,  a  cornet, 
and  forty -five  privates  of  the  British  dragoons,  with 
all  their  horses  and  accoutrements,  within  one  mile 
of  their  encampment.  On  the  day  following,  (the 
4th  of  July)  his  lordship  marched  from  the  Congaree, 
to  Orangeburgh,  where  he  was  joined  by  the  Sd  re- 
giment, with  a  convoy  of  provisions  3  and  general 
Greene,  after  collecting  the  militia,  under  Sumpter 
and  Marian,  and  attaching  them  to  the  continentals, 
offered  him  battle  on  the  12th.  His  lordship,  how- 
ever, iinding  himself  secure  in  a  strong  position, 
would  not  venture  out,  and  Greene  was  too  weak 
to  attack  him  with  any  prospect  of  success. 

Some  skirmishes,  of  no  great  moment,  took  place 
between  detached  parties,  in  the  remaining  part  of 
July,  and  in  August.  On  the  9th  of  September,  ge- 
neral Greene,  having  assembled  about  seventeen  hun- 
dred men,  proceeded  to  attack  the  British,  who,  un- 
der the  command  of  colonel  Stewart,  were  posted  at 
Eutaw  springs.     The  British  were  rather  superior   to 


©ICTIONARY.  469 

them  in  point  of  numbers  ;  and  the   American  army 
was  chiefly  composed  of  militia,  and  new  raised  levies. 
General  Greene    drew  up   his    forces  in  two  lines : 
the  first,  consisted  of  militia  from  North  and  South- 
Carolina,  and   was  commanded  by  generals  Marian, 
Pickens,  and  colonel  de  Mulmedy :  the  second,  was 
composed  of  continental  troops  from  North-Carolina, 
Virginia,  and  Alaryland,  and  were  led  on  by  general 
Sampter,    colonel   Campbell,  and  colonel    O.  Wil- 
liams.    Lieutenant  colonel  Lee,  v/ith  his  legion,  co- 
vered the  right  flank,  and  lieutenant  colonel  Hender- 
son, with  the  state  troops,  the  left.     A  corps  de-re- 
serve,  was   formed  of  the  cavalry,  under  lieutenant 
colonel  Washington,  and  the  Delaware  troops,  under 
captain   Kirkwood.      As   the   Americans  came   for- 
ward to  the  attack,  they  fell  in  with  some  advanced 
parties  of  the  enemy,  at  about  two  or  three  miles 
ahead  of  the  main  body.     Those,  being  closely  pur^ 
sued,  were  driven  back,  and  the  action  soon  became 
general.     The  militia  were,  at  length,  forced   to  give 
■way,  but  were  bravely  supported  by  the  second  line. 
In  the  hottest  part  of  the  engagement,  general  Greene, 
ordered  the  Maryland  and    Virginia  continentals,  to 
charge  with  trailed    arms,  and  this  decided  the  fate 
of  the  day.     "  Nothing,"  says  Dr.  Ramsay,  **  could 
surpass  the   intrepidity,  of  both  officers  and  men,  on 
this    occasion.      They    rushed    on,    in   good   order, 
through  a  heavy  cannonade,    and  a  shower  of  mus- 
ketry,    with   such    unshaken    resolution,    that   they 
bore  down  all  before  them.  The  British  were  broken, 
closely  pursued,  ar^i  upwards  of  five  hundred  of  them 
taken   prisoners.     \)n   their  retreat,   however,  num- 
bers threw   themselves,  into  a  strong   brick  house  ; 
others  took  post,  in  apiquetted  garden,  and  amongst 
impenetrable  shrubs.     The  eagerness  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, urged  them  to  attack  the  enemy  in  these  posi-^ 
tions.     Colonel  W^ashington,  made  every  exertion  to 
dislodge  them  from  the  thickets,   but  failed  :  lie  had 
his  horse  shot  ,undcrhim,  v.'bs  wounded  and  taken  pri- 


470  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

soner.  Four  six  pounders,  (two  of  which  were  aban- 
doned by  the  enemy)  were  ordered  up  before  the 
house,  and  pushed  on,  so  much  under  the  fire  from 
thence,  snd  the  thickets,  that  they  could  not  be 
brought  off  again ;  v^rhen,  general  Greene,  judging 
all  farther  efibrts  improper,  ordered  the  troops  to 
ivitiidraw-  The  Americans  collected  all  their  wound- 
ed, except  those  under  the  command  of  the  fire  from 
the  house,  and  retired  to  the  ground  from  which  they 
marched  in  the  morning,  there  being  no  water  near- 
er, and  the  troops  ready  to  faint,  with  the  heat,  and 
want  of  refreshment,  the  action  having  continued 
near  four  hours,  and  being,  by  far,  the  hottest  general 
Greene  ever  saw.  He  did  not  withdraw,  however, 
without  leaving  a  strong  piquet  on  the  field  of  battle. 
The  loss  of  the  Americans,  was  about  five  hundred  ; 
that  of  the  British,  about  eleven  hundred. 

General  Greene,  was  honoured  by  congress,  with  a 
British  standard,  and  a  gold  medal,  emblematical  of 
the  engagement  and  success,  "  for  his  wise,  decisive, 
and  magnanimous  conduct,  in  the  action  at  Eutaw 
springs  ;  in  which,  with  a  force,  inferior  in  number, 
to  that  of  the  enemy,  he  obtained  a  most  signal  vic- 
tory." 

In  the  evening  of  the  day  succeeding  the  engage- 
ment, colonel  Stewart  abandoned  his  post,  and  re- 
treated towards  Charleston,  leaving  behind  him,  up- 
wards of  seventy  of  his  wounded,  and  a  thousand 
stand  of  arms.  He  was  pursued  a  considerable  dis- 
tance, but  in  vain. 

The  battle  of  Eutaw  springs,  produced  most  signal 
consequences,  in  favour  of  America.  The  British, 
who  had,  for  such  a  length  of  time,  lorded  it  abso- 
lutely in  Sou^^h-Carolina,  were  shortly  after  that  event, 
obliged  to  confine  themselves  in  Charleston,  whence, 
they  never  ventured,  but  to  make  predatory  excur- 
sions, with  bodies  of  cavalry,  which,  in  general,  met 
wiih  a  very  warm,  and  very  unwelcome  reception. 

During  the  relaxation,  which  followed,  a  dange- 


DICTIONASY.  471 

rous  plot  was  formed,  by  some  turbulent  and  muti- 
nous persons,  in  the  army,  to  deliver  up  their  brave 
general  to  the  British.  This  treasonable  design  owed 
its  rise,  to  the  hardships,  wants,  and  calamities,  of  the 
soldiers  who  were  ill  paid,  ill  clothed,  and  ill  fed. 
The  project,  however,  was  providentiailv  discovered  ; 
and  by  the  firmness,  and  moderation  of  the  general 
happily  suppressed. 

The  surrender  of  lord  Cornwallis,  whose  enterpri- 
sing spirit,  had  been,  by  the  British  ministry,  expected 
to  repair  the  losses,  and  to  wipe  away  the  disgrace, 
which  had  been  incurred,  through  the  inactivity  and 
indolence  of  other  generals,  having  convinced  them 
of  the  impracticability  of  subjugating  America,  they 
discontinued  offensive  operations,  in  every  quarter. 
From  the  beginning  of  the  year,  1782,  it  was  cur- 
rently reported,  that  Charleston  was  speedily  to  be 
evacuated.  It  was  officially  announced,  on  the  7th 
of  August,  but  did  not  take  place,  until  the  17th  of 
December. 

The  happy  period,  at  length  arrived,  when,  by  the 
virtue  and  bravery  of  her  sons,  aided  by  the  bounty 
of  heaven,  America  compelled  her  invaders,  to  recog- 
nize htx  Independence,  Then  her  armies  quitted  the 
tented  fields,  and  retired,  to  cultivate  the  arts  of  peace 
and  happiness.  Amongst  the  rest,  general  Greene, 
re-visited  his  native  state,  where  he  proved  as  va- 
luable a  citizen,  as  the  Carolinas  had  witnessed  him 
a  gallant  soldier.  Dissentions  and  jealousies,  had  ex- 
tended their  destructive  influence  among  the  Rhode- 
Islanders,  whose  animosity  had  risen  to  such  a  de- 
gree, as  to  threaten  the  most  serious  ill  consequen- 
ces :  general  Greene,  exerted  himself,  to  restore  har- 
mony and  peace  amongst  them  once  more,  and  was 
happily  successful. 

In  October,  i785,  he  sailed  to  Georgia,  where  he 
had  a  considerable  estate,  not  far  distant  from  Savan- 
nah. Here  he  passed  his  time,  occupied  in  his  do- 
mestic   concernsj   until  the    hour  of  his    mortaiitv 


47^  HEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

approadied.  While  walking  out  one  day,  without  an 
umbrella,  the  intense  rays  of  the  sun,  beating  upon 
his  head,  overpowered  him,  and  brought  on  an  in- 
flammation of  the  brain,  which  carried  him  off  a  few 
days  after,  on  the  19th  of  the  same  month. 

When  the  melancholy  accountof  his  death,  arrived 
at  Savannah,  the  people  were  struck  with  the  deep- 
est sorrow.  All  business  was  suspended  ; — The  shops 
and  stores,  throughout  the  tov/n,  were  shut — and 
the  shipping  in  the  harbour,  had  their  colours  half- 
masted. 

The  body  was  brought  to  Savannah,  and  interred 
on  the  20th.  The  funeral  procession,  being  attend- 
ed by  the  Cincinnati,  Militia,  &;c.  &;c. 

Immediately  after  the  interment  of  the  corps,  the 
members  of  the  Cincinnati,  came  to  the  following 
resolution  : — "  That,  as  a  token  of  the  high  respect 
and  veneration,  in  which  this  society  hold  the  me- 
mory of  their  late  illustrious  brother.  Major  General 
Greene^  deceased,  George  Washington  Greene^  his 
eldest  son,  be  admitted  a  member  of  this  society,  to 
take  his  seat,  on  his  arriving  at  the  age,  of  eighteen 
years." 

General  Greene,  left  behind  him,  a  wife  and  five 
children  ;  the  eldest  of  whom,  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  was  about  eleven  years  old. 

His  Excellency  was  a  man  of  a  humane  and  truly 
benevolent  disposition,  but  resolutely  severe,  when 
the  same  was  necessary.  The  situation  in  which  he 
was  placed  as  commander  in  the  Southern  depart- 
ment, was  such  as  required  a  combination  of  milita- 
ry skill,  undaunted  courage,  and  unceasing  exertions; 
and  we  have  already  seen  how  remarkably  the  quali- 
fications concentred  in  him.  To  the  firmness,  intre- 
pidity and  heroism  of  a  soldier,  he  united  the  most 
conciliating  manners.  The  cruelties  which  were 
practised  by  the  partizans  of  both  sides,  he  held  in 
the  utmost  abhorrence,  and  uniformly  inculcated  a 
spirit  of  moderation  :  and,  to  a  prevailing  knowledge 
of  this  disposition,  he  ascribed  his  being  spared  by 


DICTIONARY.  473 

the  tories  in  Carolina,  who,  he  thought,  could  have 
shot  him  repeatedly,  if  they  had  been  so  determined. 
On  the  1 2th  August'86,  the  United  States  in  congress 
assembled  came  to  the  following  resolution  :■ — "  That 
a  monument  be  erected  to  the  memory  of  Nathaniel 
Greene,  Esq.  at  the  seat  of  the  federal  government, 
with  the  following  inscription  :- — 

SACRED 

to  the  Memory  of 

Nathaniel  Greene,  Esq. 

who  departed  this  Life, 

the  nineteenth  of  Jane,  MDCCLXXXVI. 

Late  Major  General 

in  the  service  of  the  United  States, 

and  Commander  of  their  Army 

in  the  Southern  Department. 

The  United  States,  in  Congress  Assembled, 

in  honour  of  his 

Patriotism,  Valour  and  Ability, 

have  erected  this 

MONUMENT. 

GREGORY,  (James)  one  of  the  most  eminent 
mathematicians  of  the  last  century,  was  born  at  Aber- 
deen, in  Scotland,  in  1638.  He  was  educated  in  the 
Latin  language,  at  the  grammar  school,  and  went 
through  the  usual  course  of  academical  studies  in 
the  Marischal  College  of  that  city. 

At  the  age  of  24,  he  published  a  treatise,  in  Latin, 
on  optics,  to  which  was  subjoined  an  appendix,  ex- 
hibiting the  solution  of  some  of  the  most  difficult 
problems  of  astronomy.  This  is  a  work  of  great  ge- 
nius, in  which,  he  gave  the  world  an  invention  of  his 
own,  and  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  the  modern  dis- 
coveries, the  construction  of  the  reflecting  telescope. 
This  discovery,  immediately  attracted  the  attention 
of  mathematicians,  vv' ho,  were  soon  convinced,  of  its 
great  importance  to  the  sciences  of  optics  and   a»tro- 

VoL.  n.  Na.  16.  OS 


47>4  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

nomy.  The  manner  of  placing  the  two  specula 
upon  the  same  axis,  appearing  to  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
to  be  attended  with  the  disadvantage  of  losing  the 
central  rays  of  the  larger  speculum,  he  proposed  an 
improvement  on  the  instrument,  by  giving  an  oblique 
position  to  the  smaller  speculum,  and  placing  the 
eye-glass  in  the  side  of  the  tube.  But  it  is  worth 
remarking,  that  the  Newtonian  construction  of  that 
instrument,  was  long  abandoned  for  the  original,  or 
Gregorian,  which  is,  at  this  day,  universally  employ- 
ed, where  the  instrument  is  of  moderate  size  ;  though 
Mr.  Herschell  has  preferred  the  Newtonian,  for  the 
construction  of  those  immense  telescopes,  which  he 
has,  of  late  years,  so  sucessfully  employed,  in  ob- 
serving the  heavens. 

Soon  after  the '  appearance  of  his  first  work,  Mr. 
Gregory  went  to  the  university  of  Padua,  where  he 
continued  for  several  years,  and  in  1667,  published, 
in  Latin,  his  "  Quadrature  of  the  Circle  and  Hyper- 
bole," in  which  he  propounded  another' discovery  of 
his  own,  the  invention  of  an  infinitely  converging 
series  for  the  areas  of  the  circle  and  hyperbole.  To 
this  treatise,  when  re-published,  in  1688,  he  added  a 
new  work,-  entitled  "  Geometriae  pars  Universalis," 
in  which  he  is  allowed  to  have  shewn,  for  the  first 
time,  a  method  for  the  transmutation  of  curves. 
These  works,  naturally  recommended  Mr.  Gregory 
to  the  notice  of  the  greatest  mathematicians  of  the 
age,  in  consequence  of  which,  he  was  choseti  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Royal  Society  of  London  ;  and  by  many 
excellent  papers,  greatly  enriched  the  philosophical 
transactions  of  that  respectable  body. 

In  1668,  he  was  elected  professor  of  mathematics, 
in  the  university  of  St.  Andrews,  which  office  he  held 
till  the  year  1674,  when  he  was  called  to  Edinburgh, 
to  fill  the  mathematical  chair  in  that  university.  This 
place,  however,  he  had  held  for  little  more  than  a 
year,  when,  in  October,  1675,  being  employed  in 
shewing  the  satellites  of  Jupiter,  through  a  telescope^ 


-DicTiONAirY.  4T^ 

io  some  of  his  pupils,  he  was  suddenly  struck  with 
total  blindness,  and  died  a  few  days  after,  at  the  ear- 
ly age  of  thirty-seven. 

GREGORY,  (David)  Savilian  professor  of  astro- 
nomy at  Oxford,  nephew  of  the  above  mentioned 
James  Gregory,  was  born  at  Aberdeen,  in  1661,  in 
.which  city  he  received  the  earlier  parts  of  his  educa- 
tion. He  completed  his  studies  at  Edinburgh,  and 
being  possessed  of  the  mathematical  papers  of  his 
uncle,  soon  distinguished  himself,  likewise,  as  the 
heir  of  his  genius.  In  the  23d  year  of  his  age,  he  was 
elected  professor  of  mathematics  in  the  university  of 
Edinburgh,  and  published,  in  the  same  year,  a  geo- 
metrical treatise,  exhibiting  a  general  method  of 
measuring  figures  of  any  kind.  He  saw,  very  early, 
the  excellence  of  the  Newtonian  philosophy,  and  had 
the  merit  of  being  the  first,  who  introduced  it  into  the. 
schools,  by  his  public  lectures,  at  Edinburgh. 

In  1691,  he  was  appointed  Savilian  professor  of 
astronomy,  at  Oxford.  In  i693,  he  published  in  the 
Philosophical  Transactions,  a  solution  of  the  Floren- 
tine problem,  "  Dc  Tcsludlne  Veliformi  Quadribili,'* 
and  he  continued  to  communicate  to  the  public,  from„ 
time  to  time,  many  ingenious  mathematical  papers, 
through  the  same  channel. 

In  1702,.  our  author  published,  at  Oxford,  ^'  Aslro- 
noynicc  FhysiccCy  et  Geometricce  elemental'  a  work, 
which  is  accounted  his  master  piece.  It  is  founded 
on  the  Newtonian  docrines,  and  was  esteemed  by  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  himself,  as  a  most  excellent  explana-- 
tion  and  defence  of  his  philosophy.  In  the  following 
year,  he  gave  to  the  world,  an  edition  in  folio,  of  the 
works  of  Euclid,  in  Greek  and  Latin  ;  in  which,  al- 
though it  contains  all  the  treatises  attributed  to  Ea- 
clid.  Dr.  Gregory,  has  been  careful  to  point  out  such,- 
as  he  had  reason  to  believe,  were  the  productions  of 
some  other  inferior  geometrician.  He  had,  likewise, 
soon  after,  began  the  publication  of  the  Conies    of 


476  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

Apollonius  in  the  same  year  ;  but  had  made  but  small 
progress  in  that  undertaking,  when  he  died,  in  the 
49th  year  of  his  age,  A.  D.  J  7 10. 

To  the  genius  and  abilities  of  David  Gregory,  the 
most  celebrated  mathematicians  of  the  age.  Sir  Isaac 
^Newton,  Dr.  Halley,  and  Dr.  Keill,  have  given  am- 
ple testimonies.  Besides  those  works,  which  he  pub- 
lished in  his  life  time,  he  left  in  manuscript  "  A  short 
Treatise  of  the  Nature  and  Arithmetic  of  Logarithms," 
^?vhich  was  printed  at  the  end  of  Dr  Commandine*s 
Euclid,  and  a  "  Treatise  of  Practical  Geometry", 
which  was  afterwards  translated,  and  published  in 
1745  by  Mr.  M'Laurin. 

Mathematical  genius  appears,  for  some  time  to  have 
been  hereditary  in  the  family  of  the  Gregorys;  for 
besides  those  we  have  already  mentioned,  there  was 
James  the  brother  of  David,  who  for  S3  years  viz.  from 
1691  to  1725,  filled  the  mathematical  chair  at  Edin- 
burgh, with  great  abilities.  There  was,  likewise, 
another  brother,  named  Charles,  who  w^as  appointed 
professor  of  mathematics,  at  St.  Aiidrews,  in  1707. 
This  office  he  held  with  great  credit,  for  thirty-two 
years;  and,  resigning  in  1739,  was  succeeded  by  his 
son,  who  eminently  inherited  the  talents  of  the  fami- 
ly, and  died  in  176^. 

GREGORY,  (Dr.  John)  professor  of  medicine 
in  the  university  of  Edinburgh — the  son  of  Dr.  James 
Gregory,  professor  of  medicine,  in  King's  College, 
Aberdeen,  and  grandson  of  James,  the  inventor  of  the 
Gregorian  telescope,  was  born,  June  3d,  1724.  Los- 
ing his  father,  when  only  in  the  7th  year  of  his  age, 
the  care  of  his  education  devolved  on  his  grandfather. 
Principal  Chalmers,  under  whose  eye,  he  completed 
in  King's  College,  his  studies  in  the  Latin  and  Greek 
languages,  and  in  the  science  of  ethics,  mathema- 
tics, and  natural  philosophy.  His  preceptor  in  phi- 
losophy and  mathematics  was,  Dr.  Thomas  Gordon^ 


DICTIONARY.  477 

who  is  still  a  professor  in  King's  College,  and  who 
has  filled  an  academical  chair,  with  great  reputation, 
for  above  half  a  century. 

In  the  year  1742,  Mr.  Gregory  went  to  Edinburgh, 
where  the  school  of  medicine  was  rising  to  that  ce- 
lebrity, which  has  since  so  remarkably  distinguished 
it.  After  having  attended  the  lectures  of  the  diffe- 
rent professors,  for  three  years,  he  set  out  for  Leyden, 
in  order  that  he  might  make  himself  still  more  per- 
fect in  the  knowledge  of  his  profession,  under  the 
very  able  teachers,  who  then  filled  the  different  medi- 
cal chairs  of  that  university.  While  at  this  place,  he 
had  the  honour  of  receiving  from  King's  College,  of 
Aberdeen,  his  alma  mater,  who  regarded  him  as  a 
favourite  son,  an  unsolicited  degree  of  Doctor  of  Me- 
dicine :  and,  soon  after,  on  his  return  thither,  from 
Holland,  he  was  elected  professor  of  philosophy,  in 
the  same  university.  In  this  capacity,  he  read  lee* 
tures,  during  the  years  1747,  '48,  and  '49,  on  mathe- 
matics, natural  and  moral  philosophy.  In  the  end  of 
1749,  however,  he  chose  to  resign  his  professorship  of 
philosophy,  his  views  being  turned  chiefly  to  the  prac- 
tice of  physic,  with  w^hich,  he  apprehended  the  du- 
ties of  this  professorship  too  much  interfered. 

After  continuing  for  some  time,  as  a  physician  in 
his  native  city,  finding  that  the  field  of  medical  prac- 
tice was,  in  a  great  measure,  pre-occupied  by  his  el- 
der brother.  Dr.  James  Gregory  and  others  of  some 
note  in  their  profession,  our  author  determined  to  try 
his  fortune  in  London.  Thither  he  accordingly  went 
in  1754;  and,  being  already  known  by  reputation  as 
a  man  of  genius,  he  found  an  easy  introduction  to 
many  persons  of  distinction,  both  in  the  literary  and 
polite  world.  The  late  lord  George  Lyttleton,  in  par- 
ticular, was  his  friend  and  patron.  An  attachment 
which  was  founded  on  a  striking  similarity  of  manners, 
of  tastes  and  of  dispositions,  grew  up  into  a  firm  and 
permanent  friendship ;  and  to  that  nobleman,  to  whom 
Dr.  Gregory  was  wont  to  communicate  all  his  literary 


.478  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

prcductior.s,  the  world  is  indebted  for  the  publieation 
of  the  *'  Comparative  View  of  the  State  and  Faculties 
(  f  JNIan,  with  those  of  the  Animal  World,"  which 
mad-^  him  first  known  as  an  author. 

In  17  54,  Dr.  Gregory  was  chosen  Fellow  of  the 
"Roypl  Society  of  London,  and  as  he  was  daily  ad- 
vancing in  the  public  esteem,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted, 
(hat,  had  he  continued  his  residence  in  that  metropo- 
lis, his  professional  talents  would  have  found  their  re- 
ward in  a  very  extensive  practice.  But  the  death  of 
b.is  brother  Dr.  James  Gregory,  in  ^November  1755, 
occasioning  a  vacancy  in  the  professorship  of  physic, 
in  King's  college,  y\berdeen,  which  he  was  solicited 
to  fill,  he  returned  to  his  native  country,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  fallowing  year,  and  took  upon  him  the 
duties  of  that  ofBce. 

Here  our  author  remained  till  the  end  of  the  year 
1761,  when,  urged  by  a  very  laudable  ambition,  he 
changed  his  place  of  residence  for  Edinburgh,  as 
being  a  more  extensive  field  of  practice.  His  friends 
)\)  that  metropolis  had  represented  to  him  the  situa- 
tion of  the  college  of  medicine,  as  favourable  to  his 
views  of  filling  a  professional  chair  in  that  universitv, 
which  accordingly  he  obtained  in  1766,  on  the  resig- 
nation of  Dr.  Rutherford,  professor  of  the  practice  of 
physic.  In  the  same  year  he  had  the  honor  of  being 
appointed  first  physician  to  his  majesty  for  Scotlandr 

On  his  first  establishment  in  the  university  of  Edin- 
Irjrgh,  Dr.  Gregory  gave  lectures  on  the  practice  of 
physic,  during  the  years  1767,  1768  and  1769.  Af- 
terwards by  agreem.ent  with  Dr.  Cullen,  professor  of 
the  theory  of  physic,  these  two  eminent  men  gave  al- 
ternate courses  of  the  theory  and  of  the  practice.  As 
a  public  speaker.  Dr.  Gregory's  manner  was  simple 
and  animated  j  and  he  expressed  his  ideas  with  un- 
common perspicuity.  By  the  assistance  of  a  few  notes 
he  lectured  with  great  facility  and  eles^ance.  The 
only  lectures  which  he  fully  committed  to  writing, 
were  those  introductory  discourses,  which  he  read  kt 


DICTIONARY,  479 

the  beginning  of  his  annual  course,  and  these  he  pub- 
lished in  1770,  under  the  title  of  "  Lectures  on  the 
Duties  and  Quahfications  of  a  Physician." 

Dr.  Gregory  in  this  work  has  two  objects  chieHy 
in^iew;  i.  He  points  out  those  accomplishmen-s 
which  qualify  a  physician  for  performing  the  practi- 
cal duties  of  his  profession.  II.  He  gives  rules  for 
inquiry,  which  he  tliought  necessary  to  be  observed 
in  the  study  of  medicine,  as  a  branch  of  natural  know- 
ledge. His  remarks  on  the  former  of  these  subjects, 
and  particularly  on  the  delicate  attentions  necessary 
to  those,  whose  minds  are  debilitated  by  disease,  are 
results  of  the  author's  acquaintance  with  human  na- 
ture, as  well  as  of  that  benignity  of  temper,  by  which 
all  his  writings, are  distinguished.  Neither  does  his 
character  appear  in  a  less  advantageous  light  from  his 
liberal  remarks  on  the  lucratbce  part  of  his  profession. 
On  this  topic  he  expresses  himself  with  considerable 
animation,  against  the  unworthy  artifices  and  servi!o 
manners,  by  which  it  has  too  often  been  degraded. 
In  the  three  first  lectures  Dr  Gregory's  remarks  on 
these  and  other  topics  highly  interesting  to  practicdi 
physicians  fully  justify  his  general  inference,  "Thar 
the  profession  of  medicine  requires  a  more  compre- 
hensive mind  than  any  other,*'  This  will  appear  to  be 
an  unquestionable  truth  to  every  person  w^io  considers 
the  great  variety  of  speculative  knowledge,  and  of 
literary  accomplishments,  which  ought  necessarily  to 
be  acquired  in  a  medical  education  ;  beside  the  saga- 
city, the  address  and  the  knowledge  of  mankind, 
which  ought  to  regulate  the  physician,  in  the  prac- 
tical part  of  his  art. 

The  three  last  lectures  are  principally  confined  to 
medicine  as  a  branch  of  natural  knowledge.  Thev 
exhibit  more  fully  than  any  of  our  author's  other  works, 
the  extent  of  his  philosophical  views,  and  from  t'nein 
we  have  the  greatest  reason  to  lament  tlie  loss,  whicli 
the  science  of  medicine  sustained  by  his  death.  Ni» 
intelligent  reader  can  possibly  peruse  them  without 


'ISO  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

regretting,  that  his  ingenious  and  benevolent  exertions 
foT  the  improvement  of  the  medical  art  were  so  early 
interrupted. 

In  the  year  1772,  Dr.  Gregory  published  "  Elements 
of  the  Practice  of  Phytic  for  the  use  of  students." 
This  work  was  solely  intended  for  his  own  pupils,  and, 
in  his  lectures,  he  commented  upon  it  as  a  text  book. 
His  design  was  to  have  comprehended  in  it,  the  whole 
series  of  diseases,  of  which  he  treated  in  his  lectures. 
But  this  intention  he  did  not  live  long  enough  to  ac- 
complish, having  brought  down  the  work  no  farther 
than  to  the  end  of  the  class  of  Febrile  diseases.  In 
his  introductory  lectures,  formerly  mentioned.  Dr. 
Gregory  had  delivered  his  sentiments  with  regard  to 
the  proper  mode  of  conducting  medical  inquiries  in  the 
present  imperfect  state  of  that  science.  He  never  at- 
tempted to  mislead  the  students  by  flattering  views 
of  the  perfection  of  the  medical  art.  On  the  contrary, 
he  anxiously  pointed  out  its  defects,  which  he  consi- 
dered as  a  principal  step  to  promote  its  improvement. 
In  this  view,  he  was  careful  to  expose  the  futility  of 
those  theories  and  hypotheses,  which  had  been  most 
generally  received  and  perpetually  inculcated,  the 
danger  of  fabricating  systems  upon  a  limitted,  and 
often  a  very  improper  knowledge  of  facts.  Yet,  in 
the  work  last  mentioned,  it  will  appear,  from  the  or- 
der in  which  he  has  treated  of  the  several  diseases, 
that  he  did  not  entirely  neglect  the  systematic  ar- 
rangements of  other  authors.  These,  however,  he 
warned  his  pupils,  that  he  had  not  adopted,  from  any 
conviction  of  the  rectitude  of  those  theories,  to  which 
they  referred,  but  only  as  affording  that  degree  of 
method,  and  regularity  of  plans,  which  is  found  to  be 
the  best  help  to  the  study  of  any  science.  Consider- 
ing a  rational  theory  of  physic,  to  be  as  yet  a  desi- 
deratum ;  it  was  his  object  to  communicate  to  his  pu- 
pils, the  greatest  portion  of  practical  knowledge,  as 
the  only  basis,  on  which  such  a  theory  could  ever  be 
raised.     His  method,  in  treating  of  the  several  dis- 


DICTIONARY.  481 

eases,  was  first  to  mention  those  symptoms,  which  are 
understood  among  physicians,  to  characterize  or  define 
a  disease.  With  great  precision,  he  points  out  the 
diagnostic  symptoms,  or  those  which  distinguish  one 
disease  from  others  that  resemble  it,  and  marks  the 
prognostics,  which  enable  the  physician,  to  form  pro- 
bable conjectures  concerning  the  event  of  a  disease. 
He  next  specified  the  causes  of  diseases,  namely,  the 
pre-disposing,  the  occasional,  and  the  proximate. 
Finally,  he  taught  the  general  plan  of  cure,  the 
proper  remedies  to  be  employed,  and  the  cautions 
requisite  in  administering  them.  Thus  desirous  of 
establishing  the  science  of  medicine  upon  the  solid 
foundation  of  practice  and  experience,  he  uniform- 
ly endeavoured,  both  by  his  precepts  and  example,  to 
impress  on  the  minds  of  his  pupils,  the  necessity  of 
great  caution,  either  in  admitting,  or  rejecting,  what 
are  commonly,  though  often,  very  improperly,  called 
medical  facts  or  cases. 

Dr.  Gregory,  soon  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  and, 
as  he  himself  informs  us,  for  the  amusement  of  his  so- 
litary hours,  employed  himself  in  the  composition  of 
that  admirable  tract,  entitled  "  A  Father  s  Legacy  to 
his  Daughters^'  a  work,  which,  though  certainly 
never  intended  by  its  author,  for  the  public  eye,  it 
would  have  been  an  unwarrantable  diminution  of  his 
fame,  and  a  capricious  refusal,  of  a  general  benefit  to 
mankind,  to  have  limited  to  the  sole  purpose  for 
which  it  was  originally  designed.  It  was,  therefore, 
with  great  propriety,  published  after  the  author's 
death,  by  his  eldest  son.  This  work,  is  a  most  ami- 
able display  of  the  piety  and  goodness  of  his  heart, 
and  his  consummate  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
and  of  the  world.  It  manifests  such  solicitude  for 
their  welfare,  as  strongly  recommends  the  advice 
which  he  gives.  He  speaks  of  the  female  sex,  in  the 
most  honourable  terms,  and  labours  to  increase  its 
\--  estimation,  whilst  he  plainly,  yet  genteely  and  tender- 
ly, points  out  the  errors,  into  which  young  hdies  are 
Vol.11,  No.  16.  P3 


482  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

apt  to  fall.     It    is   particularly    observable,   in  what 
high    and    honourable   terms  he   speaks  of  the  holy 
scriptures,  of  christian  worship,  and  faithful  ministers  ; 
how  warmly  he  recommends  to  his  daughters,  the 
serious  and   devout  worship  of  God,  in  public  and 
private.     He  dwells  largely  on  that  temper  and  be* 
haviour,  which  were  particularly  suited  to  their  edu- 
cation,  rank,  and  circumstances ;  and   recommends 
that  gentleness,   benevolence,  and  modesty,   which 
adorn   the  character  of   the   ladies,    and    do  partis 
eular  honour  to  their  sex.     His  advices,  with  regard 
to  love,  courtship  and  marriage,  arc  peculiarly  wise 
and  interesting.     They  shew  what   careful  observa- 
tions he  had  made  on  female  domestic  conduct,   and 
on  the  different  effects  of  possessing,  or  wanting  the 
virtues  and   qualifications,,    which  he  recommends. 
There  is   something"   highly   curious,   animated,  and 
useful  to  them,  in  his  directions,  how  to  judge  of,  and 
manifest  an  honourable  passion  in,  and  towards  the 
other  sex  ;  and,  in  the  very  accurate,  and  useful  dis- 
tinction, which  he  makes  between  true  and  false  de- 
licacy.    Nothing  can  be  more  striking  and  affecting  ; 
nothing  more  likely  to  give  his  paternal  advices   their 
desired  effect,   than  the  respectful   and  affectionate 
manner,  in  which  he  mentions  his  wife,  their  mother,, 
and  the  irreparable  loss,  which  he  and  they  had  sus- 
tained,  by  her  early  death.     In  short,  in  this    tract,, 
the  professor  shines  with  peculiar  lustre,  as  a  husband 
and  father,   and  it    is  admirably   adapted  to   promote 
domestic  happiness. 

Good  sense,  was  the  most  conspicuous  feature  in 
the  m.ind  of  Dr.  Gregory  ;  but,  what  is,  by  no  mean«> 
always  the  case,  it  was  united  with  genius  and  acutc- 
ness  of  intellect.  From  his  i8th  year,  he  had  beea 
occasionally  affected  with  the  gout,  which  he  inhe- 
rited from  his  mother,  who,  in  1770,  died  suddenly,, 
when  sitting  at  table.  Dr.  Gregory  had  prognostica- 
ted to  himself,  a  similar  death  ;  an  event,  of  which», 
:aiiipngst  his  friends,  he  oftea  talked,  but  had  no  ap- 


BICTIOKARY.  '  4S3 

prehension  of  the  nearness  of  its  approach.  In  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1793,  in  conversation  with  his 
6on,  the  present  Dr.  Janr;es  Gregory,  the  latter  re- 
marking, that  having  for  the  three  preceding  years, 
had  no  return  of  the  fir,  he  might  make  his  account 
with  a  pretty  severe  attack,  at  that  season,  he  receiv- 
ed the  information  with  some  degree  of  anger,  as  he 
felt  himself  then  in  his  usual  state  of  health.  The 
prediction,  however,  was  true  ;  for  having  gone  to 
bed,  on  the  9th  of  February,  1793,  with  no  apparent 
disorder,  he  was  found  dead  in  the  morning. 

The  countenance  of  Dr.  Gregory,  from  a  fullness  of 
feature,  and  heaviness  of  eye,  exhibited  no  marks  of 
superior  powers  of  mind.  But  in  conveisation,  his 
features  became  animated,  and  his  eye  expressive. 
He  had  a  warmth  of  tone  and  gesture,  which  gave  a 
pleasing  effect  to  every  thing  which  he  uttered  ;  but, 
united  with  this  animation,  there  was  in  him  a  gtn- 
tleness  and  simplicity  of  manners,  which,  with  little 
attention  to  the  external  and  regulated  forms  of  po* 
liteness,  was  more  engaging  than  the  most  finished 
address.  In  the  company  of  literary  men,  his  conver- 
sation flowed  wiih  ease,  and,  whatever  was  the  sub- 
ject, he  uniformly  delivered  his  sentiments,  without 
affectation  or  reserve.  He  ])ossessed  a  large  share  of 
the  social  and  benevolent  aflectioriS,  which,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  profession,  manifested  themselves,  in  ma^ 
ny  nameless, but  important  attentions  to  those  under  his 
care  ;  attentions,  which,  proceeding  in  him,  from  an 
extended  principle  of  humanity,  were  not  squared  to 
the  circumstances  or  rank  of  the  patient,  but  ever  be- 
stowed most  liberally,  where  they  were  most  requi- 
site. In  the  care  of  his  pupils,  he  was  not  satisfied 
with  a  faithful  discharge  of  his  public  duties.  To 
many  of  these,  strangers  in  the  country,  and  far  re- 
moved from  all  who  had  a  natural  interest  in  their 
concerns,  it  was  matter  of  no  small  importance  to  en- 
joy the  acquaintance  and  countenance  of  one  so  uni- 
versally acquainted  and  esteemed.  Through  him  the^^ 


484  KEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

found  an  easy  introduction  to  an  enlarged  and  elegant 
society  ;  and,  what  to  them  was  still  more  valuable, 
they  experienced  in  him  a  friend,  who  was  ever  easy 
of  access,  and  ready  to  assist  them  to  the  utmost, 
with  his  counsel  and  patronage.  The  same  spirit  of 
philanthrophy,  endeared  him,  in  a  particular  manner 
to  his  intimate  friends,  amongst  whom,  may  be  rank- 
ed, most  of  the  Scottish  literati  of  his  time. 

Some  time  after  his  death,  the  professorship  of  the 
theory  of  medicine,  was  bestowed  upon  his  eldest 
son,  the  present  Dr.  James  Gregory,  who,  has  since 
succeeded  to  the  practical  chair,  lately  filled  by  that 
truly  respectable  professor.  Dr.  Cullen. 

We  cannot  conclude  this  article,  without  expres- 
sing our  regret,  that  amongst  the  practitioners  of  phy- 
sic in  the  United  states,  there  are  too  many,  whose 
talents  and  accomplishments,  fall  infinitely  short  of 
those  recommended  by  Dr.  Gregory,  as  es.-.-ntially 
requisite,  to  be  possessed  by  every  well  bred  phy- 
sician ;  too  many,  who,  instead  of  believing  with  hia?, 
"  that  the  profession  of  medicine,  requires  a  more 
comprehensive  mind  than  any  other,"  seem  to  think, 
that  a  very  limited  share  of  genius,  improved  by  a 
superficial  education,  extending  little  farther  than  the 
knowledge  of  technical  terms,  and  some  confused 
ideas  of  the  virtues  of  the  most  common  medicines, are 
qualifications  sufficient  to  entitle  the  possessor,  to  as- 
sume the  appellation  of  Doctor,  and  to  sport  with  the 
most  important  of  all  concerns,  the  lives  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  with  impunity.  The  medical  establishments, 
in  the  United  States,  for  the  instruction  of  students 
in  the  healing  art,  are  far  from  being  contemptible. 
I'heir  professorial  chairs,  are  filled  by  gentlemen, 
whose  talents  and  ingenuity,  reflect  the  highest  ho- 
nour on  their  country  ;  and  the  expence  of  attending 
them,  is  by  no  means  exorbitant  :  Yet,  strange  to 
tell !  every  succeeding  year,  sends  forth  an  inunda- 
tion of  Doctors,  many  of  whom  have  never  seen  the 
inside  of  a  college,  or  an  hospital — nor  perhaps  the 


DICTIONARY.  485 

skeleton  of  a  human  body.  Such  men,  however,  by 
their  impudence  and  effrontery,  imposing  upon  cre- 
dulous people,  frequently  attain  eminence,  whilst  the 
modest  and  assuming  practitioner,  who  has  devoted 
his  best  days  to  the  acquisition  of  professional  know- 
ledge, is  sometimes  doomed  to  live  in  obscurity. 

But  is  the  industry  of  the  professional  student  to 
abate,  because  he  sometimes  sees  great  and  well  cul- 
tivated powers,  neglected  or  forgotten  by  mankind  ? 
Is  he  to  exchange  the  glowing  enthusiasm  of  expec- 
tation, for  the  impotent  langour  of  inactivity  ?  The 
man,  who,  in  spite  of  time  mis- spent,  and  unimproved 
talents,  has  been  able,  by  low  manoeuvre,  and  fortu- 
nate incident,  to  obtain  eminence,  is  best  qualified  to 
answer  these  questions.  He  knows  and  feels  the 
peculiar  dangers  ot  his  situation,  that  the  health  and 
life  of  his  best  friends  are  in  the  hands  of  a  man  unfit 
for  the  important  office  he  has  undertaken  ;  that  he  is 
every  moment  exposed  to  the  open  attacks,  or  the 
insidious  artifices  of  competitors,  eager,  as  well  as 
able,  on  every  occasion,  to  detect  imposture  and  pu- 
nish imbecillity. 

Let,  therefore,  every  young  man,  who  avows  him- 
self a  candidate  for  fame  and  fortune  whether  in  law, 
physic  or  divinity,  by  unwearied  diligence,  by  pru- 
dent conduct,  and  by  application,  secure  himself  from 
the  ridicule  and  contempt  so  constantly  and  so 
properly  attached  to  ignorant,  though  successful 
pretenders.  If,  after  devoting  his  days  to  busi- 
ness and  his  nights  to  books,  his  toil  should  prove  in- 
effectual ;  if  mankind  shall  not  be  disposed  to  ac- 
knowledge merit,  or  reward  his  labours,  let  not  dis- 
appointment damp  his  spirits,  nor  delayed  hope  make 
his  heart  sick:  honest,  though  unrequited  effort  will 
afford  solid  comfort.  He  may  console  himself  with 
reflecting,  that  he  shares  the  fate  of  many  great  and 
many  good  men,  and  that  though  he  does  not  move  in  a 
brilliant  and  exalted  circle,  he  is  a  valuable  and  useful 
XTiCmber  of  society.     The  conviction,  that  he  has  en- 


486  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

deavoured,  in  spite  of  a  frowning  world,  to  fulfil  the 
duties  of  that  station  assigned  him  by  Providence  ; 
that  he  has  not  buried  his  talent,  nor  yielded  to  the 
depressions  of  despair,  will  heal  the  wounds  of  am- 
bition, and  diffuse  a  warm  ray  of  honest  joy  over  the 
evening  of  life. 

GREY,  (Lady  Jane)  an  illustrious,  but  unfor- 
tunate personage  of  the  blood  royal  of  England  by  both 
herparents,  her  grandmother  on  her  father's  side  being 
queen  consort  to  Edward  IV.  and  her  grandmother 
on  her  mother's  being  daughter  to  King  Henry  VII. 
was  born  in  the  year  15S7.  It  was,  in  consequence 
of  the  near  relation  of  this  last  to  the  house  of  Tudor, 
that  her  father,  the  aspiring  duke  of  Suffolk,  formed 
the  design  of  transferring  the  English  diadem  into  his 
own  family,  and  of  founding  the  right  of  his  eldest 
daughter  to  the  succession,  if  King  Edward  should  die 
without  children.  He  gave  it  out  amongst  his  relations 
and  confidents,  that  though  Henry  VIII.  had  named 
in  his  testam.cntary  settlement,  his  daughters  Mary 
and  Elizabeth,  as  next  in  succession  to  his  son  Edward, 
in  case  of  his  dying  vi^ithout  issue  ;  yet  the  parliament 
as  well  as  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  had  declared  them 
both  illegitimate  ;  that,  on  the  supposition  of  their 
being  set  aside  by  the  statute  law  of  the  realm,  the 
right  of  other  heirs  to  the  succession  remained  unim- 
paired; that  it  would  be  an  indelible  stain  upon  the 
crown  of  England  to  put  it  on  the  head  of  a  bastard  ; 
and  in  fine,  that  if  ever  the  princess  Mary  should 
mount  the  throne,  the  whole  fabric  of  the  reformation, 
in  the  erection  of  which  the  whole  nation  had  so 
assiduously  laboured,  during  so  many  years,  would  be 
thrown  down  in  one  day. 

By  these  and  similar  arguments  had  the  duk#  of 
Suffolk  artfully  endeavoured  to  prepare  his  friends 
for  the  design,  which  he  had  long  seriously  medi- 
tated, while  he  beheld  with  secret  pleasure.,  the  dc- 


DICTIONARY.  487 

dining  state  of  King  Edward's  health.  But  In  order 
the  more  effectually  to  carry  his  measures  into  ex-- 
ecution,  and  only  a  few  weeks  before  the  death  of 
his  young  sovereign,  he  married  his  eldest  daughter 
the  lady  Jane,  to  the  earl  of  Guilford  son  of  the 
duke  of  Northumberland.  Thus  assisted  by  this 
powerful  interest,  and  chiefly  aided  by  the  strong  at- 
tachment, which  the  dying  king  had  to  the  reforma- 
tion, and  his  fears,  least,  if  his  sister  Mary  should 
succeed,  that  whole  work  would  be  ruined  ;  he  at 
last  ventured  to  open  his  design  to  him,  and  prevail- 
ed with  him  to  alter  the  order  of  the  succession,  and 
to  transfer  the  crown  to  the  lady  Jane  Grey. 

Upon  the  death  of  Edward,  that  part  of  the  mi- 
nistry, who  were  in  the  secret  with  the  Dukes  of  Suf- 
folk and  Northumberland,  went  with  these  noblemen 
to  acquaint  lady  Jane  of  Edward's  settlement  of  the 
crown  upon  her.     Already   overwhelmed   with    the 
death  of  this  pious  prince,  at  so  critical  a  time,  thei^r 
compliments  upon  that  occasion  only  served  to  add  a 
poignancy  to  her  grief.     She  told  them,  that,    ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  the  realm  as  v/ell  as  the  rights 
of  consanguinity,  the  crown  belonged  to  the  sister  of 
the  deceased  king:  That  she  should  wound  her  con- 
science, if  she  would  accept  of  a  dignity,  which  did 
not  belong  to  her,  and  that  it  was  very  far  from  ever 
being  wished  by  her,  to  become  great  at  the  expence  of 
others.     The  assurances,  which  they  made  her,  that 
nothing  was  transacted  for  her  succession,  but  what 
was  agreeable  to  the  laws  of  the  country  little  availed 
to  shake  her  resolution  of  rejecting  the  offer.  Rut  other 
reasons  respecting  the  critical  state,  in  which  the  nation 
beheld  the  protestant  religion,  joined  to  the  importunity 
of  her  father  and  husband,  at  last  determined  her  to 
suffer  them  to  act,  as  they  pleased  concerning  her. 
Thus,  as  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  afterwards  bore 
witness,  instead  of  pretending  of  herself  to  the  crown, 
or  taking  any  step  towards  obtaining  it,  she  never 
would  have  accepted  it,  but  in  spite  of  herself,  to 


488  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

please  others,  and  to  prevent  the  ruin  of  the  protestant 
part  of  the  nation. 

On  the  10th  July  1553,  lady  Jane  was  proclaimed 
queen;  for  which  proceeding,  the  danger  of  the  nation 
being  again  subjected,  to  the  tyrannic  sway  of  the 
Romish  see,  if  Mary  should  succeed  to  the  throne, 
was  given  out  as  the  ostensible  reason.  It  was,  like- 
wise, declared,  *'  that  the  late  king  had  disposed  of  the 
crown  to  the  exclusion  of  his  sisters,  because  they 
were  illegitimate,  according  to  the  sentence  of  the 
ecclesiastical  court  and  the  declaration  of  parliament, 
and  that  even,  if  they  had  been  legitimate,  as 
they  were  only  sisters  of  half  blood,  the  laws  of  En- 
gland could  not  admit  either  of  them  to  succeed  to 
the  throne,  in  consequence  of  which,  king  Edward 
had  appointed,  that,  in  case  Frances,  duchess  of 
Suffolk,  who  was  the  nearest  heiress  should  die  without 
male  descendants,  her  eldest  daughter  lady  Jane 
Grey,  should  inherit  the  crown. 

Thus  this  virtuous  lady,  whose  excellent  and  amia- 
ble qualities  had  rendered  her  dear  to  all,  v^ho  had  the 
happiness  of  knowing  her  and  who,  in  no  part  of  her 
conduct,  appears  to  have  been  actuated  by  motives 
of  ambition,  was,  contrary  to  her  inclination,  dragged 
forward  to  appear  as  the  ostensible  head  of  a  faction. 
Her  regal  pageantry  continued,  however,  only  a  few 
days  ;  for  after  some  feeble  and  unavailing  efforts  to 
prevent  Mary's  succession,  the  voice  of  the  nation,  pro- 
testants,  as  well  as  catholics  called  her  to  assume  the 
sceptre.  Lady  Jane  and  her  husband  were  committed 
to  the  tower  and  on  the  13th  November  arraigned 
and  found  guilty  of  high  treason,  in  consequence  of 
which,  they  were  beheaded  on  the  12th  February  fol- 
lowing. 

She  met  death  with  that  dignity  and  fortitude 
which  seldom  accompanies  any,  in  that  awful  scene, 
except  the  virtuous.  Immediately  before  her  execu- 
tion, she  addressed  herself  to  the  weeping  multitude 
with  amazing  composure,  acknowledged  the  justice  of 


DICTIONARY,  489 

the  law,  though  she  Ermly  declared,  that  she  was 
forced  into  the  measures  for  which  she  suffered  and  di- 
ed in  charity  with  all.  Thus  fell  this  excellent  and 
accomplished  young  lady  who,  for  simplicity  of  man- 
ners, purity  of  heart  and  extensive  learning  was  hardly 
ever  equalled.  For  although  she  had"  not  attained  to 
the  18th  year  of  her  age,  she  was  well  acquainted 
with  philosophy,  and  could  express  herself  very  pro- 
perly, at  least,  in  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages. 
We  are,  likewise,  informed,  that  she  was  well  versed 
in  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Arabic,  French  and  Italian,  that 
she  played  well  on  instrumental  music,  and,  that  she 
was  excellent  at  the  needle.  We  are  also  told,  that  she 
accompanied  her  musical  instruments  with  a  voice 
exquisitely  sweet  in  itself  assisted  by  all  the  graces, 
which  art  could  bestow. 

GROTIUS,  (Hugo)  or  more  properly  Hugo  De 
Groot,  one  of  the  greatest  men  in  Europe,  was  bora 
in  Delft,  in  the  United  provinces  of  Flolland,  in  1583. 
He  made  so  rapid  progress  in  his  studies,  that,  at  the 
age  of  15,  he  had  attained  a  great  knowledge  in  phi- 
losophy, divinity  and  civil  law  ;  and  a  yet  greater  pro- 
ficiency in  polite  literature,  as  appeared  by  the  com- 
mentary he  had  made,  at  that  age,  on  Martian  us 
Capella. 

In  1598,  he  accompanied  the  Dutch  ambassador 
into  France,  and  was  honoured  by  several  marks  of 
esteem  by  Henry  IV.  He  took  his  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Laws  in  that  kingdom ;  and,  at  his  return  to  his 
native  country,  devoted  himself  to  the  bar,  where  he 
was  admitted  to  plead  before  he  was  17  years  of  age, 
aftd  so  eminent  were  his  abilities,  that  lie  wzs  appoint- 
ed attorney  general,    whilst  only  in  his  1^4th  year. 

In  1613,  he  settled  in  Rotterdam,  and  was  nomi- 
nated Syndic  of  that  cily  s  but  did  not  accept  of  the 
ofiice,  till  a  promise  was  made  him,  that  he  should 
not  be  removed  from  it.  He  took  this  prudent  pre- 
caution from  hh  foreseeing,  that  the  quarrels  of  the 

Vol.  II.  No.  16.  Q3 


49Q  NEW  EIOGRAPHICAL 

divines  on  the  doctrine  of  grace,  which  had  already 
given  rise  to  many  factions  in  the  state,  v^ould  occasion 
revolutions  in  the  chief  cities.  The  same  year  he 
was  sent  into  England  on  account  of  a  dispute  between 
the  two  nations,  on  the  right  of  fishing  in  the  northern 
sea* :  but  he  could  obtain  no  satisfaction.  He  was 
afterwards  sent  to  England,  as  it  is  thought,  to  persuade 
the  king  and  the  principal  divines  to  favour  the  Ar- 
minians  3  and  he  had  several  conferences  with  king 
James  on  that  subject. 

On  his  return,  he  became  closely  connected  with 
the  patriot  Barnevelt,  who,  having  from  republican 
principles,   succeeded   in   limiting   the   authority   of 
Maurice,,  prince  of  Orange,  the  second  stadtholder^ 
was  falsely  accused  by  the  partizans  of  that  magis- 
trate of  a  design  to  deliver  up  his  country  to  the  Spa- 
nish monarch,  and,  under  that  pretext,  as  well  as  tor  his 
adherence  to  the  religious  opinions  of  Arminius,  un- 
justly beheaded,  in  1619.      In  consequence   of  tha 
attachment  of  Grotius  to  the  same  cause,  he  was 
implicated  in  a  similaraccusation  with  that  of  his  unfor- 
tunate friend,  and,  though  he  was  permitted  to  escape 
with  his  life,  he  was  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for 
life  and  to  forfeit  all  his  goods  and  chatties.     But  after 
having   been    treated  with  great  rigour  in  his  con- 
finement for  upwards  of  eighteen   months,   he  was 
delivered  by  the  artifice  of  his  wife,  who  advised  hiin 
to  get  into  a  large  trunk,  which  had  been  frcquentlyem*- 
ployed  in  conveying  linen  to  and  from  Gorkum,  where 
it  was  sent  to  be  washed.  Having  bored  holes  into  this, 
in  order  to  prevent  his  being  stiffled,  he  got  into  it  and 
"was  carried  to  a  friend's  house   in    Gorkum ;  where 
dressing  himself  like  a  mason  and  taking  a  trowel  in 
his  hand,  he  passed  through  the  market  place,  and 
stepping  into  a   boat,  v\'ent   to  Valvet  in  Brabant. 
Soon  after  he  retired  into  France,  where  he  met  with 
a.generous  reception,  and  had  a  pension  settled  upon 
him  by  Lewis  XIII.     Having  resided  there  for  eleven 
years,  he  returned  to.  Holland,  on  his  receiving  a  verj^ 


BICTIONARY.  4^1 

kind  letter  from  Frederic  Henry,  who  was  then  prince 
of  Orange;  but  his  enemies  renewing  their  persecutions 
he  went  to  Hamburgh,  where  in  1635,  Queen  Chris' 
tina  of  Sweden  made  him  her  counsellor,  and  sent 
him  ambassador  into  France.  After  having  discharged 
the  duties  of  this  office  above  eleven  years,  he  return- 
ed to  Sweden,  taking  Holland  in  his  way,  and  re- 
ceived many  honours  at  Amsterdam.  He  was  intro- 
duced to  her  Swedish  majesty  at  Stockholm,  and  there 
begged  that  she  would  grant  his  dismission,  in  order 
that  he  might  return  to  his  native  country.  This  re- 
quest was  obtained  with  great  difSculty,  as  Christina, 
who  was  a  distinguished  patron  of  men  of  learning, 
was  unwilling  to  part  with  a  person  so  noted  for  lite- 
rary talents,  and  whose  faithful  services  had  often 
been  highly  conducive  to  the  prosperity  of  her  king- 
dom. In  his  way  to  Holland,  the  ship  in  which  he 
embarked,  w^as  cast  away  on  the  coast  of  Pomerania, 
and,  as  he  was  then  sick,  he  continued  his  journey  by 
land,  but  was  forced  to  stop  at  Rostock,  where  he 
died  on  the  28th  August  1645.  His  body  was  car- 
ried to  Delft,  and  interred  in  the  sepulchre  of  his  an- 
cestors. 

Grotius  was  eminent  as  a  lawyer,  philosopher,  ma- 
thematician, historian  and  political  writer;  but  his 
chief  works  are  his  ''  Treatise  of  the  Truth  of  the 
Christian  Religion,"  his  "  Treatise  of  the  Rights  of 
Peace  and  War,"  his  «  Commentaries  on  the  Holy 
Scriptures,"  and  his  "  History  and  Annals  of  Hol- 
land, &c.'* 

GUNTER,  (Edmund)  an  excellent  niathemriti- 
cian  and  astronomer,  was  born  in  Hertfordshire,. 
England,  in  1581.  He  was  educated  at  the  univer- 
S'ity  of  Oxford,  and  in  1606,  entered  into  holy  or- 
ders; but  genius  and  inclination  leading  him  chiefly 
to  mathematics,  and  the  study  of  natural  philosophy, 
he  was  in  1615,  chosen  professor  of  astronomy  in% 
Grcsham  college,  London,  where  he  greatly   distin^- 


492  NSW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

guished  himself  by  his  lectures  and  writings.  He, 
likewise,  became  famous  for  many  important  improve- 
ments in  mathematical  instruments  for  the  use  of  na- 
vigation. Of  these,  the  most  celebrated  are,  a  new 
projection  of  the  sector;  the  invention  of  a  small  por- 
table quadrant;  the  discovery  of  a  new  variation  in 
the  manner's  compass,  and  also,  the  famous  line  of 
proportions,  which  after  him  has  been  called  Gunters 
Scaky  and  which  serves  to  solve  problems  instrumen- 
tally,  in  the  same  manner  as  logarithms  do  arithmeti- 
cally. 

He,  likewise,  published  ^' Canon  Triangubrum," 
and,  a  work,  entitled  ''  Of  the  Sector,  Cross-staff,  and 
other  instruments/'  This  last,  was  published,  with  an 
English  translation  of  his  Canon  Triangulorum,in  4to. 
by  Samuel  Foster,  professor  of  Gresham  college.  Mr. 
Gunter  died  in  162G. 

GUY,  (Thomas)  founder  of  Guy^s  bospftal,  in 
London,  was  the  son  of  a  lighter-man  and  coal-dea- 
ler, in  So^thvv^ark.  He  was  put  apprentice  in  166a 
to  a  bookseller,  and  after  having  served  his  time, 
commenced  business  for  himself,  with  a  stock  of  be- 
tween 8  &  900  dollars.  The  English  bibles  being, 
at  that  time,  badly  printed,  Mr.  Guy  engaged  with 
others,  in  a  seheme  for  having  them  printed  in  Hol- 
land, and  importing  them  ;  but,  this  being  put  a  stop 
to,  he  contracted  with  the  university  of  Oxford,  for 
their  privilege  of  printing  thcnij.  and  carried  on  a 
great  trade  in  bibles,  for  many  years,  to  a  consider- 
able advantage.  Thus,  he  began  to  accumulate  mo- 
ney, and  his  gains  rested  in  his  hands:  for,  being  a 
single  man,  and  extremely  penurious,  his  expences 
were  next  to  nothing.  His  custom  was,  to  dine  on 
his  shop  counter^  with  no  other  table  cloth,  than  an 
eld  news-paper.  He  was  also,  as  \\\.\\q  scrupulous 
with  respect  to  the  style  of  his  apparel.     But,  the 


DICTIONARY.  49S 

cmolaments  arising  from  trade,  were  not  the  only 
source  of  his  vast  fortune ,  for,  the  bulk  of  it  was 
ncquired  by  purchasing  seamen's  tickets,  during 
Queen  Anne's  wars,  and  by  South  Sea  stock,  in  the 
memorable  year,  1720. 

To  shew  what  great  events  spring  from  trivial 
causes,  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  public  owe  the 
dedication  of  the  greatest  part  of  his  immense  fortune, 
to  charitable  purposes,  to  the  indiscreet  officiousness 
©f  his  maid  servant,  in  interfering  with  the  mending 
of  the  pavement  before  the  door.  Guy  had  agreed 
to  marry  her,  and,  preparatory  to  his  nuptials,  had 
ordered  the  pavement  before  his  door,  (which  was  in 
a  neglected  state)  to  be  mended,  as  far  as  to  a  parti- 
cular stone,  which  he  pointed  out.  The  maid,  whilst 
her  master  was  out,  innocently  looking  on  the  men 
at  work,  pointed  out  a  broken  place  to  them,  which 
they  had  not  repaired;  but  they  informed  her,  that 
Mr.  Guy  had  directed  them  not  to  go  so  far.  "Well," 
says  she,  ''  don't  you  mind  it,  tell  him  I  bade  you, 
and  1  know  he  will  not  be  angry."  It  happened, 
however,  that  the  poor  girl  presumed  too  much  on 
her  influence  over  her  careful  lover,  with  vi^hom,  the 
expence  of  a  few  shillings  extraordinary,  turned  the 
scale  totally  against  her.  The  men  obeyed ;  Guy 
was  enraged  to  find  his  orders  exceeded ;  his  matri- 
monial scheme  was  renounced  ;  and  thus  having  no 
family  to  provide  for,  he  devoted  the  greatest  part  of 
his  fortune  to  the  erection  and  endowment  of  hospi- 
tals. 

He  was  76  years  of  age,  when  he  formed  the  de- 
sign of  building  the  hospital  contiguous  to  that  of  St. 
Thomas's,  \vhich  bears  his  name.  Tbe  charge  of 
erecting  this  vast  pile,  amounted  to  83,440  dollars, 
besides,  974,575  dollars,  which  he  left  to  endow  it; 
and  he  just  lived  to  see  it  roofed  in. 

He  erected  an  Alms-house,  with  a  librar)^  at  Tan- 
worth,  in  Staffordshire,  the  place  of  his  mother's  na- 
tivity,   which   he    represented   m    parliament,  for 


494  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

14  poor  men  and  women,  and  for  their  pensions,  as 
well  as  for  the  putting  out  of  poor  children  appren- 
tices, bequeathed  a  certain  sum  annually.  To  Christ^s 
hospital,  he  gave  1776  dollars  a  year,  forever,  and 
the  residue  of  his  estate,  amounting  to  upwards  of 
350,000  dollars,  amongst  those,  who  could  prove 
themselves  in  any  degree,  related  to  him. 

He  died,  December  17th,  1724,  in  the  81st  year 
of  his  age,  after  having  dedicated  more  money  to 
charitable  purposes,  than  any  one  private  man,  upon 
record  in  Great  Britain,  or,  perhaps,  in  any  other 
part  of  the  world. 

HAKLUYT,  (Richard)  A  British  naval  histo- 
rian, was  born  in  London,  about  the  year  1553.  He 
was  educated  at  Oxford,  where  he  applied  himself 
chiefly  to  the  study  of  cosmography,  in  which,  after 
having  greatly  improved  himself,  he  read  lectures. 
He  also  introduced  maps  and  globes  into  the  public 
schools  of  that  celebrated  university.  In  1582,  he 
published  a  small  collection  of  voyages  and  discove- 
ries, and  about  two  years  after,  went  as  chaplain  to 
the  British  ambassador,  to  the  court  of  France.  Con- 
stantly attentive  to  his  favourite  cosmographical  en- 
quiries, in  searching  the  French  libraries,  he  found  a 
valuable  manuscript,  entitled,  "  The  Notable  History 
of  Florida,  by  Laiidonnierre  and  other  Adventurers'' 
This  he  caused  to  be  published  at  his  own  expence, 
in  the  French  language,  and  soon  after  revised,  and 
re-published  Peter  Martyr^s  book,  "  De  Orbe  Novo'* 

After  five  years  residence  in  France,  Mr.  Hakluyt 
returned  to  England,  whea  he  applied  himself  to 
collect,  translate  and  digest,  all  the  voyages,  journals 
and  letters,  that  he  could  procure,  which  he  first  pub- 
lished in  one  volume,  folio,  in  1589,  and,  to  which  he 
aftervirards  added  two  others.  Jn  1605,  our  author 
was  made  prebendary  of  Westminster,  in  which  sta- 
tion he  continued  till  the  time  of  his  death,  which 


DICTIONARY,  495 

happened  in  1616.  He  was  a  man  of  indefatigable 
diligence,  and  great  integrity  ;  much  in  favour  with 
Queen  Elizabeth's  ministry,  and  much  conversant 
amongst  seamen. 

His  works  are,  1st.  "  A  Collection  of  Voyages  and 
Discoveries/'  2d.  "  History  of  Florida."  3d.  The 
Principal  Navigations^  Voyages  and  Discoveries  of 
the  English  Nation/'  in  3  vol.  folio.  4th.  "  The  Dis- 
coveries of  the  World,  from^the  first  original,  to  the 
year  1555,"  translated  from  the  Portuguese  of  Gal- 
vano,  and  greatly  enlarged  and  corrected.  5th.  "  Vir- 
ginia, richly  valued  by  the  descriprion  of  the  main 
land  of  Florida,  her  next  neighbour,"  which  he  like- 
wise translated  from  the  Portuguese.  Besides  these, 
he  left  several  manuscripts,  which  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Mr.  Purchas,  and  were  afterwards  published  in 
the  collections  of  that  indefatigable  writer. 

HALE,  (Sir  Mathew)  lord  chief  Justice  of  the 
King's  bench,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  was  the  son 
of  a  counsellor  at  law,  and  born  at  London,  in  160^*. 
He  was  educated  at  Oxford,  where  he  made  a  con- 
siderable progress  in  learning,  but,  was  afterwards 
diverted  from  his  studies,  by  the  levities  of  youth. 
From  these,  however,  be  was  providentially  refor- 
med, by  means  of  Mr.  John  Glanville,  sergeant  at 
law,  and  applying  to  the  study  of  the  law,  entered 
into  Lincoln's  Inn.  Nov,  the  attorney  general,  took 
early  notice  of  him,  and  directed  him  in  his  studies, 
and  Mr.  Selden,  was  the  first,  who  set  him  on  a  more 
enlarged  pursuit  of  learning,  which  he  had  before 
confined  to  his  own  profession. 

During  the  civil  war,  such  was  his  moderation,  and 
the  opinion  universally  entertained  of  his  integrity, 
that  he  possessed  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  both 
parties.  He  was  employed  in  his  practice  by  all  the 
king's  party  ;  and  was  appointed,  by  the  parliament, 
one  of  the  commissioners  to  treat  with  the  king. 
Though  the  execution  of  king  Charles,  greatly  affected 


496  NETW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

him,  he  took  the  engagements  prescribed  by  those 
who  assumed  the  supreme  power,  and,  was  appoint- 
ed, with  several  others,  to  consider  of  the  reformation 
of  the  law.  About  the  year  1653,  he  was  appointed 
one  of  the  justices  of  the  common  pleas  ^  but,  upon 
the  death  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  he  refused  to  accept 
of  the  new  commission  offered  him  by  Richard,  his 
successor.  He  was  a  member  of  that  parliament, 
which  called  home  Charles  II.  who,  soon  after 
his  restoration,  appointed  him,  Lord  Chief  Baron  of 
the  Exchequer,  and  also  conferred  upon  him,  the  or- 
der of  Knighthood. 

He  was  one  of  the  principal  judges,  who  sat  about 
settling  the  difference  between  landlord  and  tenant, 
after  the  ever  memorable  fire  in  London,  which  hao- 
pened  in  1666  3  and  he,  on  that  difiicult  occasion, 
behaved  to  the  entire  satisfaction  ol:  all  parties  con- 
cerned. In  his  post  of  lord  chief  baron,  he  likewise 
acted  with  the  most  inflexible  integrity,  as  the  fol- 
lowing anecdotes  may  serve  to  illustrate.  One  of  the 
iij'st  peers  in  the  realm,  went  once  to  his  chamber, 
and  told  him,  "  that  having  a  suit  in  law,  to  be  tried 
before  him,  he  was  then  to  acquaint  him  with  it,  that 
he  might  the  better  understand  it,  when  it  should 
come  to  be  tried  in  court."  Upon  which,  his  lord- 
ship immediately  interrupted  him,  saying  **he  did  not 
deal  fairly,  to  come  to  his  chambers  about  such  af- 
fairs ;  for  he  never  received  information  of  such  cau- 
ses, but  in  open  court,  when  both  parties  were  to  be 
heard  alike."  On  receiving  such  a  rebuke,  his  grace 
went  away  greatly  dissatisfied,  and  complained  of  it 
to  the  king,  as  a  rudeness,  which  w^as  not  to  be  en- 
dured \  but,  his  majesty  bid  him  content  himself,  that 
he  was  used  no  worse  :  adding,  **  that  he  verily  be- 
lieved he  would  have  used  him  no  better,  if  he  had 
gone  to  solicit  him  in  any  of  his  own  causes." 

Another  remarkable  circumstance  happened  in  one 
of  his  circuits.  A  gentleman,  who  had  a  trial  at  the 
assizes,  had   sent  him  a  buck  for  his  table.    When 


judge  Hale,  therefore,  heard  his  name,  he  aslced  "  if 
he  was  not  the  same  person,  who  had  sent  him  the 
venison,"  and  upon  being  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, told  him,  that  "he  could  not  suffer  the  trial  to 
go  on,  till  he  had  paid  for  his  huck.'*  The  gentle- 
man answered,  that  "  he  never  sold  his  venison  ;  and 
that  he  had  done  nothing  to  him,  which  he  did  not 
do  to  every  judge,  who  had  gone  that  circuit,''  which 
was  confirmed  by  several  gentlemen  present.  The 
lord  chief  barren,  however,  would  not  sufler  the  trial 
to  proceed,  till  he  had  paid  for  the  present ;  upon 
which,  the  gentleman  withdrew  the  record. 

In  1671,  he  was  advanced  to  be  lord  chief  justice 
of  the  king's  bench  ;  but,  about  four  years  after  il.i? 
promotion,  he  resigned  the  post,  in  consequence  of 
his  declining  years,  and  died  in  Decer.iber,  1G7G. 
The  attai;nments  of  Sir  Mathew  were  wonderful  ;  for 
he  had,  beside  his  peculiar  profession,  a  considerable 
knowledge  in  the  civil  law,  in  algebra,  and  other  :na- 
thematical  sciences,  as  well  as  in  physic,  anatomy 
and  surgery  :  he  was  very  conversant  in  experimental 
philosophy,  and  other  branches  of  philosophical  learn- 
ing ;  in  ancient  history  and  chronology  ;  but,  above 
all,  he  seemed  to  have  made  divinity  his  chief  study; 
so  that  those,  who  read  what  he  has  written,  on  theo- 
logical questions,  might  be  inclined  to  think,  that  he 
had  studied  nothing  else.  This  excellent  man,  who 
was  an  ornament  to  the  bench,  to  his  country,  and 
to  human  nature,  wrote,  1st.  *^  An  Essav  on  the  Gra- 
vitation and  Non-Gravitation  of  Fluid  Bodies.'*  2d, 
"Observations,  touching  the  Tornlceliian  Experi- 
ment." 3d.  "  Contemplations,  Moral  and  Divine." 
4th.  "  The  life  of  Pomponius  Atticus,  with  Political 
and  Moral  Reflections."  5th.  '*  Observatioiison  the 
Principles  of  Natural  Motion."  6th.  "  The  Primi- 
tive origination  of  Mankind."  He  also  left  a  great 
number  of  manuscripts,  in  Latin  and  English, 
amongst  which,  were  his  "  Pleas  of  the  Crown," 
iince   published   by    Mr.  Emlyn,  in  two  vol.  folio  }• 

Vol.  II.  No,  16.  R3 


'493  KEVV  BI0GRAI>HICAL 

and  his  ^*  Original  Institutes,  Power  and  Jurisdiction 
of  the  Parliament." 


HALES,  (Stephen)  a  celebrated  Enghsh  divine 
and  philosopher,  was  born  in  1677.  He  was  educated 
at  the  university  of  Cambridge,  where  he  was  ad- 
mitted a  fellow  in  1703,  and  became  bachelor  of 
divinity  in  1711.  He  soon  discovered  a  genius  for 
natural  philosophy.  Botany  was  his  first  study  :  he  like- 
wise, devoted  a  great  part  of  his  time  to  the  science 
of  anatomy,  and  invented  a  curious  method  of  ob- 
taining a  representation  of  the  lungs  in  lead.  He 
next  applied  himself  to  the  study  of  chemistry,  in 
which,  however,  he  did  not  make  any  remarkable 
discoveries.  In  the  study  of  astronomy,  Mr.  Hales 
was  equally  assiduous,  and,  having  made  himself  ac- 
quainted with  the  Newtonian  system,  he  contrived  a 
machine  for  shewing  the  phenomena,  on  much  the 
same  principles,  with  that  afterwards  made  by  Mr. 
Rowley,  and  w^hich  from  the  name  of  his  patron  was 
called  an  orrery. 

About  the  year  1710,  he  was  settled  in  a  respecta- 
ble church  living  in  Somersetshire  which  vacated  his 
fellowship  in  the  university  :  still,  however,  he  pur- 
sued his  philosophical  investigations,  with  unremit- 
ting ardour.  In  1718,  he  was  elected  a  member  of 
the  Royal  Society,  and  soon  after,  exhibited  an  ac- 
count, of  some  experiments,  which  he  had  lately 
made,  on  the  effect  of  the  sun's  w^armth  in  raising 
the  sap  in  trees.  This  procured  him  the  thanks  of 
the  society,  who  also  requested  him,  to  prosecute  the 
subject.  With  this  request,  he  complied  ;  and,  in 
June,  1725,  exhibited  a  treatise,  in  which  he  gave 
an  account  of  his  progress.  This  treatise  being  high- 
ly applauded  by  the  society,  he  farther  enlarged  and 
improved  it,  and,  in  1727,  published  it,  under  the 
title  of  "Vegetable  Statics.""  To  which,  soon  after, 
there  appeared  a  sequel,  under  the  title  of  *' Statical 
Essavs." 


DICTIONARYo.  4^* 

Tn  17S3,  the  university  of  Oxford,  honoured  him 
with  a  diploma^  for  the  degree  of  Doctor  in  Divinity, 
a  mark  of  distinction,  the  more  honourable,  as  it  is 
not  usual  for  one  university  to  confer  academical  ho- 
nours on  those,  who  were  educated  at  another.  In 
1734,  when  the  health  and  morals,  of  the  lower  and 
middling  class  of  people,  were  subverted,  by  the  ex- 
cessive drinking  of  gin,  his  philanthrophy  induced 
h-im  to  publish,  though  without  his  name,  "  A  Friendr 
ly  Admonition  to  the  Drinkers  of  Brandy  and  other 
Spiritous  Liquors,**  which  was  repeatedly  re-printed» 
In  J 739,  he  printed  a  volume  in  8  vo.  entitled  "Phi- 
losophical Experiments  on  Sea-v/ater,  Corn,  Flesh 
and  other  Substances,'*  a  work,  containing  much 
useful  information,  particularly  for  those,  who  make 
long  voyages.  The  same  year,  he  exhibited  to  the 
Royal  Society,  "  An  account  of  some  further  experi- 
ments towards  the  discovery  of  medicines,  for  dissolv- 
ing the  stone  in  the  kidneys  and  bladder,  and  pre- 
serving meat  in  long  voyages."  For  this,  he  was 
honoured  with  a  gold  medal.  The  year  following, 
he  published  some  account  of  experiments  and  ob- 
servations on  Mr.  Stephens's  medicines  for  dissolving 
the  stone  ;  in  which,  their  power  is^  enquired  into 
and  demonstrated. 

In  17  41,.  he  read  before  the  Royal  Society,  an  ac- 
count of  an  instrument,  which  he  invented,  and  cal- 
led a  ventilator,  for  conveying  fresh  air  into  mines, 
hospitals,  prisons  and  the  close  parts  of  ships  ;  he  had 
communicated  it  to  his  particular  friends  some  months 
before  ;  and,  it  is  very  remarkable,  that  a  machine  of 
the  same  kind,  and  for  the  same  purpose,  was  in 
the  spring  of  the  same 'year,  invented  by  one  Trie- 
wald,  a  Swedish  ofhcer,  for  which,  the  king  and  se- 
nate granted  him  a  privilege  in  October  following, 
and  ordered  every  ship  of  war,  in  the  service  of  that 
state,  to  be  furnished  with  one  of  them :  a  model  als3 
of  this  machine,  was  sent  into  IVance,  and  all  the 
ships  in  tlie  French  navy,  were  ordered  to  have  a 


^00  NEW  BIOGRAPHICAL 

ventilator  of  the  same  sort.  It  happened  also,  that, 
about  the  same  time,  one  Sutton,  who  kept  a  coffee- 
house in  London,  invented  a  ventilator  of  another 
construction,  to  draw  off  the  foul  air  out  of  ships  by 
means  of  the  cook-room  fire  :  but,  poor  Sutton,  had 
rot  interest  enough  to  make  mankind  accept  the  be- 
nefit offered  them,  though  its  superiority  to  Dr. 
Hales's  contrivance  was  evident.  The  public,  how- 
ever, is  not  less  indebted  to  the  ingenuity  and  bene- 
volence of  Dr.  Hales,  whose  ventilators  came  more 
easily  into  use  for  many  purposes  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance. 

in  1743,  Dr.  Hales  read  before  the  royal  society, 
a. description  of  a  method  of  conveying  liquors  into 
the  {ibdoinen^dnr'ing  the  operation  of  tapping,  and  it 
was  afterwards  printed  in  their  transactions.  In 
3  745,  he  published  some  experiments  and  observa- 
tions on  tar-water,  which  he  had  been  induced  to 
make,  by  the  publication  of  a  work  called  Sin's,  in 
which  the  learned  Berkeley,  bishop  of  Cloyne,  had  re- 
commended tar- water  as  an  universal  medicine  :  en- 
this  subject,  several  letters  passed  between  them  ; 
particularly  with  respect  to  the  use  of  the  tar-water 
in  the  disease  of  the  horned  cattle. 

Were  we  to  follow  this  extraordinary  man,  through 
all  the  inventions  and  improvements,  which  he  made, 
daring  the  course  of  his  long  and  useful  life,  it  would 
tar  Qy:ceed  the  limits  necessarily  assigned  to  this  arti- 
cle :  we  shall,  therefore,  only  mention  a  few  more  of 
the  most  particular.  In  1746,  he  comrnunicated  to 
the  royal  society,  a  proposal  for  bringing  small  passa- 
ble stones  with  ease  and  expedition,  out  of  the  blad- 
der, and  this  was  published  in  their  transactions, 
in  1748,  he  made  another  communication  to  the  so- 
ciety, containing  a  proposal  for  checking,  in  some 
degree,  the  progress  of  fires  ;  also,  two  memiOirs,  one 
on  the  great  benefit  of  ventilators,  and  the  other  on 
electricity,  all  of  which  are  printed  in  their  trans- 
actions.    In  1149 y  his  veMilators  were  fixed  in   the 


DICTIONARY.  501 

Savoy  prison,  by  order  of  the  secretary  at  war,  and 
the  benefit  was  so  great,  that  though  50  or  100  in  a 
year  ofien  died  of  the  jaiS  distemper  before,  yet  from 
the  year  1749,  to  the  year  1752,  inclusive,  no  more 
than  four  persons  died,  though  in  the  year  1750,  the 
Bumber  of  prisoners  was  210  ;  and  of  those  four,  one 
died  of  the  small  pox,  and  another  of  intemperance. 
In  the  year;,  1750,  he  published  some  considerations 
on  the  causes  of  earthquakes,  occasioned  by  the 
slight  shocks,  v^'hich  were  felt  that  year  in  London. 
Jn  the  year  1752,  his  ventilators,  worked  by  a  wind- 
mill, were  fixed  in  Newgate,  with  branching  trunks 
to  24  wards ;  and  it  appeared,  that  the  dispropor- 
tion of  those,  who  died  in  the  goal,  before  and  after 
this  establishment,  was  as  16  to  7.  He  also  publish- 
ed a  farther  account  of  their  success,  and  some  ob- 
servations on  the  great  danger,  arising  from  foul  air, 
exemplified  by  a  narrative  of  several  persons,  seized 
with  the  goal  fever,  by  working  in  Newgate. 

In  the  year  1753,  Dr,  Ilales  was  elected  a  member 
of  the  academy  of  sciences  at  Paris.  The  same  year, 
he  published  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  some 
farther  considerations  about  means  to  draw  the  foul 
air  out  of  the  sick  rooms  of  occasional  army  hospitals 
and  private  houses  in  towns.  He  also  published  ma- 
ny other  curious  particulars  relative  to  the  use  and 
success  of  ventilators.  The  same  year,  a  description 
of  a  sea-gage,  which  the  doctor  invented  to  measure 
unfathomable  depths,  was  communicated  to  the  pub- 
lic in  the  same  miscellany.  In  1754,  he  communi- 
cated to  the  royal  society,  some  experiments  for 
keeping  water  and  fish  sweet,  with  lime-w^ater  ;  an 
account  of  which  was  published  in  the  philosophical 
transactions.  He  also  continued  to  enrich  their  me- 
moirs, w^ith  many  useful  articles,  fre^m  this  time  till 
his  death;  particularly,  a  method  of  forwarding  the 
distillation  of  fresh  From  salt  v^^aier,  -  by  blowing 
showers  of  fresh  air  up  through  the  latter,  during  the 
operation. 


502  NEW    BIOGRAPHICAL 

Had  Dr.  Hales  been  desirous  of  preferment  in  the 
church,  such  was  his  reputation,  and  the  interest  of 
his  family  and  friends,  that  he  might  have  easily  ob- 
tained it.  So  far,  however,  was  he  from  being  soli- 
citous, for  the  acquisition  of  such  honours,  that  v/h%n 
he  had  been  nominated  by  his  majesty,  to  fill  a  ca- 
nonry  of  Windsor,  he  requested  his  majesty  to  recall 
his  nomination.  He  was  a  man  remarkable  for  soci- 
al virtue  and  sweetness  of  temper :  his  life  was  not 
only  blameless,  but  exemplary  in  a  high  degree  :  he 
was  happy  in  himself,  and  beneficial  to  others,  as  ap- 
pears by  this  short  account  of  his  attainments  and 
pursuits.  The  constant  serenity  and  cheerfulness  of 
his  mind,  and  the  temperance  and  regularity  of  his 
life,  concurred  with  a  good  constitution,  to  preserve 
him  in  health  and  vigour,  to  the  age  of  84.  He 
died  in  1761. 

H ALLEY,  (Dr.  Edmund)  a  most  celebrated 
English  philosopher  anH  astronomer,  was  born  in 
London,  in  1656.  He  at  first  applied  himself  to  the 
study  of  the  classics,  and  of  the  sciences  in  genera], 
but,  as  he  grew  up,  astronomy  became  his  favourite 
pursuit,  in  which  he  had,  at  a  very  early  period  of 
his  life,  made  a  much  greater  progress,  than  could 
have  been  possibly  expected  from  his  years. 

In  1675,  he  went  to  the  island  of  St.  Helena,  to 
complete  the  catalogue  of  fixed  stars,  by  the  addition 
of  those,  which  lie  near  the  South  Pole;  and  having 
delineated  a  planisphere,  in  which  he  laid  them  all 
down  in  their  exact  places,  he  returned  to  England, 
in  1678.  In  the  year  1680,  he  set  out  on  a  tour 
through  the  continent,  and  about  midway,  between 
Calais  and  Paris,  had  a  sight  of  a  remarkable  comet, 
as  it  then  appeared  a  second  time  that  yeav,  in  its  re- 
turn from  the  sun.  He  had  the  November  before, 
seen  it  in  its  descent,  and  now  hastened  to  complete 
hh  observations  upon  it,  in  viewing  it  from  the  royal 


observatory  of  France.  His  design  in  this  part  of  his 
tour,  was  to  settle  a  friendly  correspondence  between 
the  two  royal  observatories  of  Greenwich  and  Paris 
and,  in  the  mean  time,  to  improve  himself^  under  so 
great  a  master  as  Cassina.  He  returned  to  England, 
in  1682,  and  in  the  year  following,  published  his 
*'  Theory  of  the  Variation  of  the  Magnetical  compass," 
in  which  he  supposes  the  whole  globe  of  the  earth  to 
be  a  great  magnet,  with  four  magnetical  poles,  or 
points  of  attraction ;  but  afterwards  thinking,  that 
this  theory  was  liable  to  great  exceptions,  he  procur- 
ed an  application  to  be  made  to  king  William,  who 
appointed  him  copimander  of  the  Paramour  Pink, 
with  orders  to  seek  by  observations,  the  discoverv  of 
the  rule  of  variations,  and  to  lay  down  the  longitudes 
and  latitudes  of  the  British  settlements  in  America. 

He  set  out  on  this  attempt,  on  the  24th  November, 
1698,  but  having  crossed  the  line,  his  men  grew 
sickly,  and  his  lieutenant  mutinying,  he  returned  home 
in  June  1699.  Having  got  the  lieutenant  tried  and 
cashiered,  he  set  sail  the  second  time,  in  September 
following,  with  the  same  ship,  and  another  of  less 
bulk,  of  which  he  had  also  the  command.  He  now 
traversed  the  vast  Atlantic  ocean  from  one  hemis- 
phere to  the  other,  as  far  as  the  ice  would  permit 
him  to  go  ;  and  having  made  his  observations,  at 
St.  Helena,  Brazil,  Cape  Verd,  Barbadoes,  the  Ma- 
deiras, the  Canaries,  the  coast  of  Barbary,  and  many 
other  latitudes,  returned  in  September  1700,  and  the 
next  year  published  a  general  chart,  shewing  at  one 
view,  the  variation  of  the  compass  in  all  those  places. 

Captain  Halley,  as  he  was  now  called,  had  been 
at  home  little  more  than  half  a  year,  when  he  was 
sent  to  observe  the  course  of  the  tides,  with  the  lon- 
gitude and  latitude  of  the  principal  places,  in  the 
British  channel  j  of  all  which,  he  afterwards  publish- 
ed a  correct  map.  In  1703,  captain  Halley  was  made 
professor  of  geometry  in  the  university  of  Oxford,  and 
had  the  deijree  of  Doctor  of  L?avs  conferred  udou 


oOi  >JEW   biographical' 

him.  He  was  scarcely  settled  there,  when  he  began 
to  translate  into  Latin  from  the  Aribic,  "Appolo- 
nius  de  Sectione  Rationis/'  and  to  restore  the  two 
books  "  De  Setione  Spatii,"  of  the  same  author, 
which  are  lost,  by  the  account  given  of  them  by  Pap-' 
pius,  and 'he  published  the  whole  work  in  1706.  la 
1714  he  was  made  secretary  to  the  Royal  Society,  and 
in  1720,  appointed  the  king's  astronomer  at  the  Roy- 
al Observatory  at  Greenwich.  He  died  in  1742. 
His  principal  w^orks,  are  1st.  "  Catalogus  Stellarum 
Australium."  2d.  "  Tabulae  Astronomicae."  3d.  "An 
Abridgement  of  the  Astronomy  of  Comets.'*  The 
world  is  also  indebted  to  Dr.  Halley,  for  the  publica- 
tion of  several  of  the  works  of  the  great  Sir  Isaac 
Newton,  who  had  a  particular  friendship  for  him, 
and  to  whom  he  frequently  communicated  his  dis- 
coveries. 


£ND    OF    THE    SECOND    VOLUME. 


